


An intervention from the rulers of the Antarctic Empire

by sircantus



Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Dadza, Dream: "Give Tommy back listen to me-", Dream: "I'm doing great watching over Tommy", Everyone shut up we're GOING TO THERAPY, Family Dynamic, Fluff, Found Family, Gen, Grab the child and run, I mean that as in everything is going to Be Okay, In which they yoink Tommy from exile, Its either gonna all be okay or im gonna throttle fate and make it be okay, Must have been the wind", Phil and Techno are just gonna do their own thing while pissing off Dream as many times as possible, Phil and Techno: "Do yall hear something?, Platonic Cuddling, Protective Philza, Protective Technoblade, Techno and Phil: "You've ruined a perfectly good teen is what you've done, Wingfic, and I think that's wonderful, look at him he's got depression", no?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:20:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 29,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28058304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sircantus/pseuds/sircantus
Summary: “Yes, thank you Dream,” Phil says, pulling out his sword, letting it hang loosely in his hand as Techno holds onto Tommy’s arm, tugging the teen even more, to the point where Tommy thinks he might bump into Techno. “However, as of now, Tommy is under the protection of the Antarctic Empire.”Dream shakes his head, laughing. “You can’t do that.” And as he walks forward to get closer, Phil points his sword right at Dream’s face.“Yes, we can.” Phil responds, and Dream takes a step back when the edge of Phil’s sword pokes against his mask.---(Techno and Phil decide to take Tommy from his mistreatment, and RUN)
Relationships: Dave | Technoblade & Phil Watson, Dave | Technoblade & TommyInnit, TommyInnit & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot & Technoblade & TommyInnit & Phil Watson
Comments: 1099
Kudos: 4397





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> heyoooo look at me procrastinating on procrastinating wooooo

  
  


It’s an early morning when it happens, slightly cold with the sun still coming up, the grass damp with dew. Tommy stays curled up in his tent, slowly waking up to the sound of the waves moving outside, the water always consistent background noise. 

He’s not cold, but he still wraps his arms around himself, turning over on his weak excuse for a bed. The torn cushions are better than sleeping on the ground directly, and while Tommy doesn’t have a blanket, and the tent still lets breezes flow through easily, he thinks it’s better than nothing. 

He’s asked Dream for a blanket, before. Those were nice nights, sleeping with something covering him, a thin light green fabric letting him keep away the nightmares for just a few moments longer. 

And he wants one again, but he doesn’t want to mess up again. He already messed up last time, and he got the proper consequence, having to burn the blanket himself, watching it turn to ash in the sand as Dream told him to be better. He should’ve known better to not yell back at Dream, really, but his personality just seems to create problems at every turn. 

It’s still early morning, and Tommy keeps his eyes closed, mentally keeping track of how long until Dream comes around again. He doesn’t usually come here too early, but he pops by every time, just to give Tommy a good morning. It’s a nice thing to wake up to, Dream leaning into his tent, telling him to not sleep in too late, lest he wants to waste the day away. 

Tommy debates getting up then, just so when Dream does come around, he can be pleasantly surprised at Tommy being up early and being productive. 

But the cushions underneath him are so soft in his half-asleep state, and he tells himself just five more minutes. 

It’s quiet outside, quiet like it always is, and sometimes it’s comforting, and sometimes it drives him mad. The water moving against the shore is always there, though, and Tommy focuses on the faint noise as he slowly drifts off again.

The sound of footsteps against sand register in his mind, and Tommy takes too long to recognize it before someone is pulling back the flap of the tent, coming in. 

“I-I’m up, I’m up.” Tommy says, rubbing at his eyes as he sits up, trying to wipe away the sleep from his eyes. “I just wanted a few extra minutes, I didn’t-” Tommy yawns, taking his hands away from his eyes and looking to the entrance of the small tent, freezing as he sees the person there. 

“Techno?” Tommy blinks, scooting back on the ground, Techno looking around the tent, making a face at the few holes in the fabric. It’s a poor excuse for a shelter, and Tommy knows it, but he’s not about to ask for something better, lest he messes it up and ends up without a tent at all. 

“This is a bit worse than I thought, to be honest.” Techno mutters, looking down at Tommy, observing his state of appearance. Tommy frowns, wanting to cover his shirt, but it wouldn’t do much, because his shirt isn’t the only thing that’s so fucked up. 

He knows he looks like a mess. His eyes are tired, always tired, worn with exhaustion, his shirt has a few holes scattered across it, the end of his shirt actually ripped up quite a bit, because he needed something to help bandage the wound on his arm. His pants are in a similar fashion, and Tommy doesn’t even have any shoes, barefoot with some bandages wrapped around his heels, just to make it easier to walk across the terrain. 

Techno is a stark contrast, dressed up in blue layers, clean and almost royal looking, from the way his cape hangs over his shoulders. There’s armor sitting underneath his clothes, and Tommy can notice the shimmering metal, a glimpse of it under his shirt. There’s a sword at his hip and an intimidating axe on his back, looking heavier than what Tommy could hold. The crown on his head is shiny and gleaming, and Tommy almost feels like he’s being mocked in his presence, with the way Tommy looks. 

“What are you doing here.” Tommy asks, frowning at the blade as he walks up to Tommy, reaching down even as the teen scoots away from his hand. 

“We’re here to pick you up. Come on.” Techno answers, and Tommy gives his hand hesitantly, Techno taking it with a strong grip, pulling Tommy to his feet and out of the tent. 

“We? Wha-wait-” Tommy stumbles a bit as Techo leads him outside, and he yanks his hand away and digs his feet into the sand in front of his tent, Techno turning to him with a bored face as Tommy refuses to move. “I can’t just  _ leave _ .” 

Tommy sees Phil walking up to them, and there’s horses nearby, tied to the trees in the back. Phil looks similar to Techno, in the way that he’s geared up and dressed up, with a sword that almost glows sitting at his hip. There’s a supply of arrows resting on Phil’s back, and Tommy can only assume that his bow must be nearby as well. 

“Alright, the place is clear, we should go before he gets here.” Phil says, Techno nodding as Tommy only stays more confused. 

“What?” Tommy asks, taking a small step back as him and Phil turn their attention to him. “Go  _ where?” _

“I have a base over by the snow biome, wayyy over there. It’ll be safer and, well, better than where you’re already staying.” Techno answers, pointing off into the general direction of his house, off miles away, before looking back at Tommy and his sad tent. 

“Why would I want to go anywhere with  _ you _ ?” Tommy asks, Phil laughing at Techno’s face going sour at that.

“Anywhere is better than here, mate. His house is secure.” Phil says, Tommy biting at the inside of his mouth as he takes in those words.

He’s already safe here, what’s the point of going with them? Even with the way their appearance shows they’re stacked, and the tempting possibility of Tommy getting some of the same clothes if he goes with them, there’s a small sense of panic crawling up his back, telling him to hide away until Dream gets here.

And the morning is passing on, it’s any moment until said person gets here, and who knows what the consequences are for Tommy mingling with the enemy. 

“You guys can’t be here.” Tommy crosses his arms, Phil’s face going slightly concerned, and Tommy hates how he feels warm for the concern. “Dream doesn’t like visitors this early.” 

Phil’s face drops into dry amusement, smiling in a way where he clearly just doesn’t care, scoffing at the thought. Techno just looks silent in thought, face blank with a fire in his eyes before he’s turning his attention back to Tommy. 

“Just go away, I’m not going with you.” Tommy says, and that’s that, he decides, turning around and about to go back into the tent, to wait for Dream to pop up, with his good morning, with his routine. 

He’s stopped by Techno reaching an hand out, grabbing Tommy’s arm and keeping him from going. Tommy looks to Techno with an annoyed expression, but Techno doesn’t seem phased, and he won’t let Tommy shake off his grip. 

“We’re not leaving you here.” Techno says, and he sounds impossibly sure of it, and Tommy’s panic only grows more as he realizes they’re not leaving the place without Tommy in tow. 

But he can’t leave. If he leaves, he can’t come back, because who knows how Dream will react to this one? To Tommy just going without a notice, off with people who Dream very clearly doesn’t like, he’s told Tommy of it multiple times. 

And yet, from the looks on Techno’s and Phil’s face, Tommy questions if he’s ever going to come back here. 

“Tommy?” A voice calls out, and Phil turns around to see Dream standing far off, a trident in his hand as he walks up to the three of them, stopping in his tracks as he sees them. Tommy feels Techno tighten his grip on his arm, pulling him closer. 

“What are you doing.” Dream says, and Tommy isn’t sure if he feels relief or fear at that tone.

Techno sighs, mumbling to Phil behind him. “I was hoping we could do this without dealing with his face.” 

“Shush.” Phil says to Techno, before giving his attention to Dream in front of him. “No need to worry. We’re just moving Tommy somewhere safer.”  _ Away from you _ , Phil doesn’t add, but he says it through the glare in his eyes. 

“That’s not necessary.” Dream responds lightly, waving a hand. “Tommy is under my watch, I got him.” 

Tommy notes how Techno pulls him just a bit farther from the tent, and Phil takes a small step to be directly in front of Tommy, blocking him from seeing Dream directly. 

“Yes, thank you Dream,” Phil says, pulling out his sword, letting it hang loosely in his hand as Techno holds onto Tommy’s arm, tugging the teen even more, to the point where Tommy thinks he might bump into Techno. “However, as of now, Tommy is under the protection of the Antarctic Empire.”

Dream shakes his head, laughing. “You can’t do that.” And as he walks forward to get closer, Phil points his sword right at Dream’s face. 

“Yes, we can.” Phil responds, and Dream takes a step back when the edge of Phil’s sword pokes against his mask. 

Dream stands in silence, holding the trident in his hand with a tight grip, and Tommy can tell by his posture, the way his shoulders are wound tight that he’s upset. 

“Tommy.” Dream says, and Phil moves so quick, Tommy doesn’t realize he’s kicked Dream before Dream is falling onto the ground, landing in the sand and dropping his trident to the side. 

“Techno, go.” Phil says, as Dream gets to his feet, raising his weapon as Phil raises his sword in defence. 

“On it.” Techno answers, and he pulls Tommy along, running past Phil to the trees, where two horses wait. 

“Wha- wait-” 

“TOM-” Dream starts to yell, but Phil kicks him across the face again, and Tommy hears a frustrated swear behind him. He goes to glance back, but Techno tugs at his arm as they run, approaching the horses as Tommy hears the clang of weapons hitting each other. 

“Don’t look at him, don’t give him your attention, Toms, come on-” He pulls Tommy up to a horse, helping him climb on and quickly pulling the reins out from the knot keeping them secured on the tree. 

“TOMMY, GET BACK HERE!” He hears, and he looks to Techno with wide eyes, trying to ignore how his heart is racing, and how badly he wants to get off the horse and sprint back, and help-

“Techno, wait, I don’t think, I don’t-”

“Ignore him.” Techno responds, and climbs onto the horse with Tommy, arms around him as he holds onto the reins, maneuvering the horse to start going, breaking into a run in the opposite direction of Dream. 

“Phil will catch up with us in a bit, we just need to get far away enough so Dream won’t follow.” Techno says, pulling at the rope as they move, running away from where Phil is kicking Dream into the sand once more, yanking Dream backwards by the hood each time he tries to make a step towards where Techno is running off with Tommy. 

“This is crazy, you know this is crazy right?!” Tommy laughs, and his hands tremble as he holds onto Techno’s sleeves, keeping his eyes on the horse they’re on. “Dream’s going to kill me when I get back-”

“You’re not going back.” Techno cuts him off, and Tommy sputters at that sentence, Techno only having the horse run faster. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *looks at the like 100+ pogchamps from the first chapter*
> 
> so....I think that you guys might want more chapters....
> 
> (Philza Fucking Minecraft how are there so MANY OF YOU)

They travel through the forest, weaving through the trees, Tommy trying to keep his cool as Techno seems dead set on getting away, as fast as humanly possible towards safety. 

Tommy watches as the ground underneath them speeds by, focusing on the sound of the horse’s hooves against the ground, repetitive and steady, rather than the thought of Dream screaming his name, getting kicked into the ground by Phil, who seemed so incredibly pissed at the fact Dream even tried to  _ say _ anything to Tommy-

“Tommy.” 

Dream was just fighting, on his own, against Phil, and Tommy just left him. He was fighting for Tommy, wasn’t he? They were friends, weren’t they? What kind of person does that make Tommy, just going with Techno and leaving him behind?

“Tommy.”

He left Dream alone, by himself, and it reminds Tommy of how he was alone, how he had no one by his side, except for Dream, always Dream. Guilt creeps up his back, and Tommy feels like he’s drowning in it, because Dream’s done so  _ much _ for him, and this is how he’s repaying him-?

“ _ Tommy _ .” Techno snaps, yanking Tommy out of his thoughts, Tommy reaching a hand out onto Techno’s sleeve, holding on with a death grip. “Breath. We’re safe, we’re going to be fine.”

“Stop the horse.” Tommy mumbles, tugging at Techno’s sleeve. 

They break out from the trees, going into an open field, a cold breeze flowing past. Tommy can see white snow far off, the beginnings of the new biome they’re going into. 

Techno only sighs, pulling at the reins and keeping the horse at a steady pace. “In a bit.”

“Technoblade, stop the horse.” Tommy repeats, looking over Techno’s arms, seeing the ground under them and wondering how he could deal with throwing himself off a horse. 

Techno seems to read his mind, and he leans his chin onto the back of Tommy’s head, huffing. “Don’t think even about it, Toms.” 

“Turn around, now.” 

“No.”

“I’ll jump off.” 

“I’ll pick you up.”

Tommy swears under his breath as they pass right into the snow, the ground underneath them now white, the temperature dropping and chilling right through his shirt. Techno’s shielding him somewhat from the slight wind, and small bits of snow are falling from the sky, landing into Tommy’s hair. 

“I need to go help Dream.” Tommy says, tugging at Techno’s sleeve, ignoring how his voice shakes. 

Techno makes a sound of disgust, like Tommy’s mentioned a cockroach or something along those lines. “Believe me, he doesn’t need help. Phil’s not going to kill him, if that’s what you’re worried about. We agreed on it beforehand, we’re just here to grab you and run.” 

Tommy is almost tempted to just let the subject drop and let the rest of the trip be in silence, but he can’t swallow down the bitter guilt in his throat at betraying Dream like that, so he instead elbows Techno behind him. 

It doesn’t do much, because of his armor, but Techno gives a huff that might’ve been a laugh. 

“Stop the fucking horse! Turn around!” Tommy insists, turning his head backwards to look at Techno, who only gives an unimpressed expression in return. 

“What, so Dream can catch up with us?” Techno asks, Tommy scowling and considering elbowing Techno again, even if it doesn’t do anything, but his eye catches something over Techno’s shoulder, far off in the distance. It could be Phil, or Dream, and Tommy doesn’t know which one he wants it to be. 

Techno continues, eyes ahead and not noticing Tommy staring at the person far behind them. 

“You really gonna tell me with full confidence that you feel safe with Dream? That you  _ really _ want to go with him?” 

“He said it himself,” Tommy mutters, turning back around, looking ahead. “He’s got me, he’s been watching over me.”

And he has, hasn’t he? No one else bothered to visit, no one else bothered to come. Dream was the only one who  _ cared _ , and he was taking care of Tommy.

“He’s been doing a shitty job of that.” Techno answers, Tommy freezing at his sharp tone, before growing confused when he starts to speak more softly. “He shouldn’t be watching over you. We should’ve come sooner, we should’ve visited.”

“What?” Tommy asks.

“I waited too long to come check on you.” Techno admits, hand letting go of the reins for a moment to grab and squeeze Tommy’s arm, reassuring. “I thought you would have been fine on your own, but no. You needed someone. I’m sorry for not being there.”

Tommy struggles to keep his eyes looking straight ahead, half convinced that he’s actually having a really weird dream, and he’ll wake up any time now to Dream poking his head into his tent, saying good morning. 

But it’s not, because the cold air is biting against his face in a way that’s too real, and Tommy isn’t sure if he wants to cry or swear loudly, because what the fuck. Dream had been the only person for him, he was the only person who cared, he was sure of it.

And yet.

“Someone’s trailing behind us.” Tommy mumbles, rubbing a hand against his eyes, choosing to let Techno know of what he saw rather than try to form a response to everything he’s just said. 

Techno glances behind him, squinting through the snow to see a person indeed following far behind. He can’t tell if it’s Phil. 

Slowing the horse down and letting it walk in a few circles, Techno keeps an eye on the figure, watching it grow closer and closer, until he can see a certain shade of green across the snow. 

And he  _ knows _ that’s not Phil’s green.

“Dammit.” Techno steers the horse to the left, a bit off track to their actual destination, but he needs to find a way to get Dream off him, to lose him in the snow, then circle back to his house so he can get Tommy somewhere safe. 

“Is it Phil?” Tommy asks, clearing his throat and glancing over Techno’s shoulder as he makes the horse run. 

“Unfortunately not.” Techno answers, trying to remember where any clumps of trees might be in this snowy area. It’s all mostly open field, but there should be somewhere where he can lose Dream. 

At seeing Tommy take a sharp breath in, shoulders tense, Techno frowns, wishing he could just stop the horse and take Dream on right now. He probably would win, just with the sheer amount of rage he’s got running through him. 

“He probably got away with Phil’s horse. Phil shouldn’t be far behind, we can lose him.” 

“Dream’s going to catch up.” Tommy grits out, voice strained. 

“He’s not.” Techno reassures, and as he scans the field for some patches of green, something comes flying fast at them, hitting Techno’s shoulder with a clang against his armor, before bouncing off. Tommy screams, and Techno realizes it’s an arrow, before leaning forward over Tommy, trying to keep him entirely out of view from Dream’s range.

“TECHNOBLADE!” He can hear Dream yell, Tommy gasping for air as Techno tightens his hands around the reins of the horse. “GIVE HIM BACK!”

“He’s going to catch up, oh fuck, oh fuck-”

“Keep your head down.” Techno advises, glancing back and seeing that Dream is slowly but surely gaining on them. 

Thankfully, though, he can see something in the sky not far behind as well, and it’s reassuring to know Phil’s got their back. 

Another arrow comes flying past, and Tommy shrieks, curling in on himself as the arrow just flies past Techno’s ear. 

“We’re okay, Tommy!” Techno yells as Tommy takes a shaky breath in to try and be calm. Looking back and seeing Dream only aim again, he watches as Phil swoops down to try and cut him off, but he knocks Dream off the horse just a moment too late, and the arrow goes flying, hitting the horse Techno and Tommy are on. 

The horse lets out a sound of pain, and they go tumbling into the snow, Techno wrapping his arms around Tommy and rolling, trying to break the fall, since he’s the one with armor, and Tommy’s just in torn clothes. 

They stop in the snow, Techno raising his head and seeing Dream try and run over, Phil right at his heels, grabbing him and slamming him into the ground with more than a few words. 

Tommy’s tucked against his chest, and he sits up still holding onto the teen, noting that there’s no way Tommy is going to be able to run in this temperature, the kid doesn’t even have shoes on, for fucks sake. 

Pulling off his cape and throwing it quickly over Tommy’s shoulders, Techno takes a quick glance at Dream and Phil, who are fighting it out in the snow, Phil looking like he’s seconds away from just stabbing Dream already. 

“Okay, Tommy, Tommy-” Techno turns his attention to the teen, holding onto him by the shoulders. Tommy’s eyes are focused on the ground underneath them, and he’s shaking, either from the cold or the adrenaline, Techno’s not sure, but it really doesn’t matter. 

“TOMMY!” Dream yells, and Phil swears loudly, hitting the snow and holding onto his shoulder with a pained face. 

“ _ No- _ ” Tommy says under his breath, looking to Techno with wide eyes, and Techno grabs Tommy, lifting him off the snow and trying to make a break for it. He’ll run through the entire biome with Tommy in his arms, he  _ will _ , while it would probably be tedious as hell, it’s better than the other outcome. 

Techno only gets a few steps away before getting tackled in the side, Tommy yelling as he’s dropped, Techno falling to the snow with Dream. 

He grabs the fucker by the shirt, swinging a punch and just barely missing as Dream gets up on his knees, leaning back to dodge. 

Tommy scoots away in the snow, holding onto Techno’s cape with a racing heart, watching as Dream and Techno both hit and swipe at each other, not letting the other stay standing for more than a second. 

He looks over to Phil a little far off, who’s slowly getting to his feet, a hand to his shoulder, red soaking into his shirt underneath his palm. 

Looking at the two fighting again, he gets to his feet, gritting his teeth at how cold the snow is under him, and he takes a few steps back, only able to stare as Techno knees Dream in the stomach, flipping him over back onto the ground before getting punched hard across the face. 

“Stop it!” Tommy yells, pulling at the cape on his shoulders, and they don’t hear him at first, occupied solely with trying to win, so Tommy screams again, his voice almost breaking at the end. “STOP IT!”

They pause, breaking apart and taking a few steps away from each other, panting and standing up into a low stance, across each other in the snow. There’s only a small moment where they’re both glaring at each other, then they both look at Tommy, both looking rather fucked up. 

“Tommy, oh my god, are you okay?” Dream pants out, Techno giving a glare so harsh that it actually impresses Tommy a bit when Dream barely acknowledges it. “Look, it’s going to be alright, you’re going to come back with me.” 

His voice is so sure of it, and he holds a hand out, Tommy finding himself taking a step back rather than going to grab it. 

“He’s not.” Techno huffs out, and Dream looks at Techno, in a way where Tommy can tell he’s scowling underneath that mask. “Tommy doesn’t have to go anywhere with you.”

“And likewise for  _ you _ .” Dream responds, turning his attention to Tommy again, staying in place. “Tommy, come on. I know this is scary, but I’m here for you, I’m going to keep you safe-”

“Bullshit.” Techno cuts him off, Tommy laughing, but it’s more out of shock from the entire situation rather than amusement. 

Techno turns his head to Tommy, eyes soft, and he doesn’t reach a hand out, nor coaxes Tommy over with promises of safety. 

He just says, “Tommy?” and when Tommy locks eyes with him, he wants to look away immediately, because Dream’s shoulders are tense and his hands are curled up into fists, and Tommy just wants Dream to calm down, to stop-

“You’re going to be okay.” Techno says, and it cuts off Tommy’s panic, because the way he says it makes it sound like anything other possibility is stupid, and Tommy tells himself to not cry right there, because that would just be embarrassing, crying in a weird stand off between Dream and Techno. 

Tommy considers both his choices here, and he looks to Dream for help. His mask is a blank smile, like it always is, and the way he stands, and the way he holds himself, Tommy wants to run the other way and never come back, because he doesn’t find comfort in Dream, only fear. 

He doesn’t like dealing with Dream when he’s like this, and he wants to escape off into the snow, away from any sort of consequences, any sort of mistakes he’s bound to make, because with Dream, there always is. 

Tommy takes a stumbling step forward, then breaks into a run, but instead of running off into the snow, he goes right to Techno, stumbling as his feet push against the cold snow, running into him with full force, wrapping his arms around Techno’s torso and not letting go. 

He nearly sobs in relief when Techno doesn’t push him off, and instead hugs him back, running a hand through his hair. 

“Tommy-” Dream starts, about to take a step forward, then arms reach out behind him, taking him off guard, and they yank around his neck, holding on even as he kicks, trying to elbow Phil behind him, trying to get him to let go.

Phil doesn’t, and he just keeps an arm around Dream's neck with an annoyed face, ignoring Dream’s struggling and his choked out threats. 

“Yeah, yeah, fucking go to sleep-” Phil mutters out, his wings shifting behind him.

He keeps a tight hold until Dream stops kicking, going limp and eventually passing out. Phil lets him fall face first into the snow. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you a lot for the comments, and the kudos, and the bookmarks, and GEEEZ yall love the story. I'm glad. 
> 
> Anyway, watch me make this into a plot! 
> 
> (Also thanks for reading)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hallooo

  
  


Tommy turns his head to see Dream drop, Phil standing over him with a frown, looking at Dream as if he's a pest that’s gotten into the house. Phil holds a hand to his shoulder, and there’s a big red stain showing through his fingers, soaking into his shirt. 

A sharp pang of guilt eats away at Tommy for a moment, but it’s quickly overshadowed by how Techno holds Tommy close, tugging at the cape around Tommy’s shoulders to keep it secure, to keep the cold out. 

Tommy’s eyes are stuck on Dream’s unconscious body as he leans into Techno, a hand running through the back of his hair. 

“Is your shoulder okay?” Techno asks over Tommy’s head, and it takes a second for Tommy to tear his eyes away from Dream, glancing to Phil instead, who stretches out a wing as he winces, rolling back his shoulder. 

“Yeah, it’s not that bad. He stabbed me with a fuckin arrow.” Phil mutters, taking his hand away from the wound, red across his hand. He looks at his hand with a resigned look, before sighing and walking forward. “We should get moving anyway. Tommy, how are you doing?”

Tommy looks up with wide eyes, opening his mouth to respond, but nothing really comes out. His heart is still racing and he has to blink to try and keep tears at bay, eyes stinging from the cold and from the panic that’s running through him. 

“You’re bleeding.” Tommy gets out, voice strained. 

“It’s not that bad. I can get patched up once we get back to base, I’ll be fine.” Phil reassures, a small smile pointed towards Tommy. It barely helps, and Tommy’s eyes fall to Dream in the snow again, who’s unmoving and quiet. 

Phil follows his gaze and takes a step so he’s in front of Dream, covering him from view. “We shouldn’t stand out here. Tommy is barely suited for this weather as it is.” He says, Tommy moving his eyes to the white snow under his feet, absolutely freezing. 

“How’s your horse?” Phil asks Techno, and Techno only moves his head and looks at said horse that’s laying down in the snow, alive, but not walking around. 

“I think maybe an arrow only grazed his leg or something. He looks fine.” Techno responds, and he would go and properly check, but he doesn’t want to step away from Tommy. 

Phil nods, and walks past them both, going to said horse and tugging at it’s reins. The horse gets to its feet with a huff, and Phil doesn’t see any terrible injuries, only a slight cut at the side of one of the legs. 

He leads the horse over to Techno, giving the reins to him as Tommy looks at Dream once more. 

Part of him is yelling to go help Dream up, yelling in concern that the man isn’t moving, completely knocked out in the freezing snow. Part of him wants to go kick Dream, and that thought drowns him in guilt, for daring to think of it. 

Leaning his head into Techno, Tommy holds back tears and tries to get his shaking under control. He can’t tell if he’s trembling because of the adrenaline, the cold, or the sharp fear under his skin, but really, he’s assuming it’s gotta be all three. 

Techno lets go of Tommy, and Tommy spins his head to Techno with alarm, grabbing onto his shirt with a tight grip. Techno doesn’t say anything about it, and instead nods his head to the horse beside them. 

“Come on. Even with my cape, you’re not going to last too long in the cold.” Techno says, and Tommy grabs onto said cape around his shoulders, glancing to the horse, then to Phil, who’s gone to stand beside Tommy, blocking Dream from his view again. 

“I-” Tommy stops, letting out a breath into the cold air, before trying again. “I have to go back.” 

He doesn’t even sound too sure of it himself, and Techno just looks at him with a face that Tommy can’t name, before reaching out and lifting Tommy up onto the horse, Tommy letting him. 

“No.” Techno says, as Tommy swings his legs over the saddle, movements slow as he realizes what he’s doing, going against Dream. The realization both gives him a rush of confidence and of utter terror. “You don’t.” 

Tommy stares at Techno, who makes his way to the front of the horse, grabbing the reins and pulling the animal along, Tommy holding on as it starts walking. Pulling his attention away from Techno, he looks to the right to see Phil come back with his own horse, which had been just standing in the snow far off. 

Dream is still on the ground, unmoving. Tommy’s a bit in shock that he still hasn’t got up, that Phil had so easily just taken him down, just like that, without any consequence. 

Tommy feels nervous looking at him, as if Dream will stir at any moment, and make a drastic move to grab Tommy again, to get him back. But he stays unmoving. 

Phil is giving a nod to Techno as he brings his horse over, and Techno tugs the horse away, walking away from Dream, Phil walking with him, horse in tow.

“We can’t leave him.” Tommy blurts out, Techno raising his head to Tommy with an unimpressed look. “We, we can’t just leave him here in the snow. He’ll die.”

“He won’t die.” Phil reassures, as Techno pauses in his steps, the horse pausing as well, letting Tommy keep a good look at Dream. “He’ll get frostbite, maybe-”

“Hopefully-” Techno mutters. 

“But he’ll be fine.” Phil finishes, Tommy not convinced, and he turns his head to Phil with a pleading face, tilting his head in a silent question.

Phil’s light smile drops into a strained expression, and he glances to Dream, face turning spiteful for a moment, before calming. “Alright.” 

He goes back towards Dream, tugging his horse along. Grabbing the back of Dream’s shirt, he yanks him up from the snow without any sort of gentleness, lifting him up and throwing him over the back of the horse, making sure that he won’t fall off, before turning the horse in a certain direction, and setting it off. 

Tommy watches as the horse takes Dream the opposite direction from them, back to where Tommy was before, his little tent and beach in exile. 

“There. Now he’s gone.” Techno says, sounding slightly bitter in his words, and Tommy’s hesitant to make eye contact with him again, but is only met with patient eyes. “Shall we go?”

Tommy gives a jerky nod, and Techno hums, satisfied as he starts walking again, pulling the horse behind him. Phil walks along on the other side of Tommy, a hand resting on the neck of the horse as they make their way through the snow. 

Tommy feels himself grow tired, exhausted from the adrenaline leaving him, and the cold really starts to set in, his feet ice cold without any sort of protection. 

He’s just leaving, he realizes. 

Techno’s just put him on a horse, and is pulling said horse along to somewhere that  _ isn’t _ where Dream wants him to be. 

Tommy shoves down his feelings of hesitation and guilt and makes a mental decision, telling himself that he can do that. He can make his own goddamn decisions, and he’s going to decide to let Techno and Phil lead him to somewhere better. 

It’s a shaky decision, and a second after Tommy decides on it, he’s already starting to regret it, but he sticks with it, and keeps his head looking forwards. He grits his teeth against the cold, tugs at the cape around his shoulders, and tries to ignore the way he wants to look back and catch a glimpse of Dream. 

He focuses on Phil’s hand, instead, resting on the neck of the horse. He glances to Techno’s pink hair, instead. He keeps his eyes moving between them both, around the environment around him, and ignores the way he feels like he needs to turn back. 

\---

They keep moving for a while in silence, and eventually a house pops up in the distance, warm and inviting, in the middle of a flat field of snow. 

They make their way right towards it, and Tommy can only stare in fascination, at the way that there’s warm light coming through the windows, smoke coming up from the chimney. It looks homey, and he doesn’t doubt for a second that this is where Techno and Phil have been hiding out, escaping from Dream’s watch. 

From what Tommy knows, Techno is entirely on the run as a whole from l’manburg. Phil just never stayed around that long in the town in general, when talk of Techno being a criminal at large had gone around. 

There’s a stable at the side of the house, and Techno pulls the horse along towards it, leading it under the small roof keeping away snow. Tommy looks at what little he can see of the house beside him, of the cobblestone walls, doors beside the stable, which Tommy assumes must lead to a basement of some kind, because there was a front porch at the front of the house. 

Techno ties the reins to the fence as Phil circles around the horse, raising his arms up to Tommy to help him down. Tommy lets him, and the dirt underneath his feet is frigid, Tommy making a face as he gets off the horse. 

“Oh, you still don’t have shoes.” Phil frowns, glancing out at the layer of snow on the ground that’s in the way of getting to the entrance of the house. 

“It’s fine.” Tommy mumbles, and he holds onto Phil’s hand, tugging to get the message across that he can walk through a bit of snow. 

He ends up getting picked up off the ground, instead, arms reaching up behind him and sweeping him up off the floor. He turns his head to see Techno as the culprit, and Techno only raises his eyebrows at Tommy, then looks to Phil, nodding his head along for Phil to lead the way. Tommy huffs, but wraps his arms around Techno’s neck anyway, not wanting to get dropped into the snow, at the very least. 

They step out of the stable, the horse now in it’s home, and the three of them make their way around the house, walking up the stairs, Phil opening the door for Techno. 

The first thing that Tommy notices right off the bat is how  _ warm _ it is, a big difference from the temperature outside, where there’s wind swirling around, ice cold. There’s a warm fire at the corner of the room, crackling away in the fireplace. There’s chests tucked away, stacked against the wall, some stairs to the side that must lead to the second floor, and a doorway to the left, which at a glance, Tommy assumes has to be a kitchen or something, from the big wooden table and chairs he can see. 

“We’re home.” Techno calls out, and Phil closes the door behind him, briskly walking to the kitchen with a slight exasperation to his face. 

“What are you doing up?” Phil asks from the kitchen, voice soft and worried. “I told you, take it easy-”

“I’m fine, I swear! I just wanted to get some food made for when you guys got back.” A voice answers back and Tommy’s eyes go wide, unsure.

Techno goes to put Tommy down, but decides against it when he sees how tightly Tommy’s holding onto his shirt, and he instead just readjusts his grip and walks into the kitchen. 

Wilbur’s leaning against the counter with an easy grin, Phil holding the back of his hand to his forehead with a thoughtful look. 

“Really, I feel fine.” Wilbur says, waving Phil’s hand away. “I’ve been resting all morning, I’m not pushing myself.” 

Tommy stares with wide eyes, choking out a squeak that might’ve been a word, but it’s lost in his shock, because Wilbur is in the kitchen, Phil fussing over him. 

Wilbur’s in the kitchen, eyes tired, and posture relaxed. 

Wilbur is standing right across Tommy, and he looks at the teen with a tired smile, and Tommy can only open and close his mouth in disbelief because those eyes are vibrant, they aren’t dull, and grey, like Tommy has been so used to. 

Wilbur is  _ alive _ , fucking  _ alive _ , and the realization makes Tommy squeeze his arms around Techno and cry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alivebur? Wilbur Alive? Wilbur resurrected and now also 'under the protection of the Antarctic Empire'? 
> 
> Yes.
> 
> (Thank you for readin till next chapter)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH BOY

He gets put down the second he starts to sob, a small cry coming from his throat as Techno tries to be comforting, tries to murmur reassurances. He kneels down for Tommy and puts a hand onto his shoulder, his voice unwavering, calm, nowhere near what Tommy is feeling. Tommy lets him, for a moment, as he tries to wipe at his eyes, tries to be mature about this.

He doesn’t need to cry like a kid. Crying gets him nowhere, he knows that. 

But he decides that maybe it just doesn’t matter, and he takes a step back from Techno as his shoulders shake with another barely contained sob, and Techno doesn’t protest Tommy stepping away, only pushing him to Wilbur instead. 

Tommy nearly stumbles through the kitchen, running into Wilbur and wrapping his arms around his middle as if he lets go, Wilbur’s going to disappear into thin air. He hears Phil and Techno say something, talk amongst themselves, but Tommy only really half listens, he’s not paying attention to them. 

He turns his head to Wilbur’s chest, pressing his ear to his shirt and holding his breath as Will hugs him tight, arms wrapped around Tommy. 

This can’t be real, Tommy thinks. This isn’t real. 

But he gets a heartbeat and a warm hug, and Tommy’s eyes overflow as Wilbur talks quietly. 

“Hey, Tommy.” He whispers, like it’s just them, and Tommy shoves his face into Wilbur’s shirt, because he can’t hold back the way he breaks into even more tears. “Hey.”

Wilbur moves his hands to Tommy’s head, and Tommy has his face pushed up, looking to Wilbur’s tired, but _alive_ , eyes. 

“It’s good to see you.” Wilbur cracks a smile, and Tommy tries to give one back, his face feeling wet with tears. 

“You’re alive.” Tommy croaks out, and he fists his hands into Wilbur’s shirt, Wilbur nodding, grinning. 

“Yup.” 

“How- Why are-” Tommy stammers, Wilbur wiping the side of his hand against Tommy’s cheek for a moment. “But you were _dead._ ” 

“I was.” Wilbur shrugs. “Phil and Techno found a way to get me back. It’s a bit...weird, and I’m still getting better, still trying to remember some things.” Wilbur’s face goes conflicted for a moment, his eyebrows scrunching up in thought, looking slightly frustrated, guilty, but more than anything, just tired. 

It’s a good tired, Tommy thinks. 

“You don’t remember?” Tommy asks, and he can’t stop the next words from falling out of his mouth. “Do you remember me?”

There’s a split second of sharp pain in Tommy’s chest at the thought, of Wilbur not remembering Tommy completely, recognizing him, but not knowing him, and maybe that’s even worse than losing Wilbur entirely. Tommy wants to pull away from Wilbur right there, wants to run off, because if Wilbur’s back, but he doesn’t know Tommy, then why should he even bother?

“Oh, Tommy.” Wilbur holds Tommy’s face in his hands, and it keeps him grounded, Tommy blinking the blurriness out of his eyes. “I could never forget you.” 

Tommy shoves his face back into Wilbur’s shirt, letting out a deep breath, squeezing his eyes shut in relief as Wilbur hugs him, running his fingers through the back of Tommy’s head, through his tangled, dirty hair. 

“You don’t look too good, though.” Wilbur says over Tommy’s head, and Tommy doesn’t respond, only tries to hug Wilbur tighter. 

Wilbur looks up to Phil, who’s standing to the side, pressing a hand to the corner of his eye, smiling. Techno is still kneeling on the ground, and he seems to finally realize it, getting to his feet. 

“Phil?” Wilbur asks, glancing down to Tommy for a second, asking a million questions with his worried expression. 

“We’ve only just brought him back, Will. He was a bit worse off than we thought.” Phil gives, and Wilbur nods, looking to Techno, the two of them speaking almost telepathically, with the look in their eyes. 

Wilbur’s eyes hold just the smallest amount of rage, and Techno nods slowly, patient. In due time, they both agree. Plans are set, and they’re on the road to recovery, both Wilbur and Tommy, but revenge will eventually come along. The thought comforts Wilbur. 

“How about some food? Then, a bath, after?” Wilbur suggests, looking down to Tommy, who nods quietly. 

“I’ll go get some clothes ready, get the water running.” Techno takes a step back, watching both Wilbur and Phil nod, and he falters as he sees Will blink a few times, shaking his head a little. “Wilbur?”

“Why don’t we sit down?” Wilbur asks Tommy, voice wavering, Tommy taking a step back as Phil rushes forward to hold onto Will, who takes a deep breath in, leaning onto Phil to keep from falling over.

“Is he okay?” Tommy asks, glancing back to Techno, worried. 

“Just a bit dizzy.” Wilbur waves a hand, Phil tugging him over to the kitchen table, pulling a chair out. 

“I said to take it easy. Don’t push yourself.” Phil says gently, then nods to Techno. “Grab a healing potion, too.” 

Techno nods, and walks out of the kitchen, Tommy walking around the table to slide into a chair of his own. 

Wilbur looks sleepy, resting his head on his arms as he leans onto the table, closing his eyes as Phil rubs a hand on his back. Phil doesn’t look too worried, not surprised, if anything, and Tommy decides that this must be fine. He wonders how weak Wilbur is, right now. He wonders when Wilbur will get back to normal. 

“We only just got Will back last week.” Phil tells Tommy, like he’s read the teen’s mind. “He’s alright, just tired. Coming back from the dead takes a lot of energy.” Phil grins, his voice almost teasing, and Tommy wipes at his eyes, almost wanting to smile. 

“I’m fineee.” Wilbur groans into the table, not complaining when Phil moves his hand into Wilbur’s hair. “I wasn’t even that tired.”

“Sure, Will.” Phil agrees, but Wilbur just gives a grumble in response, raising his head to Tommy again. 

Tommy can’t stop focusing on Wilbur’s eyes, the way that they seem so vibrant, so much more kinder. Not that Ghostbur wasn’t kind, but that had felt artificial, fake, somehow. This is just genuine, and when Wilbur sends a smile across the table, Tommy finds himself returning one. 

Phil takes his hand away from Wilbur, walking over to the counter, where Wilbur had been trying to make some food. He makes a face at the ingredients thrown around, the bowls scattered. 

“What is this?” Phil asks, taking a bowl in his hand, raising an eyebrow at the contents of it. 

“I was making cake.” Wilbur answers, Tommy scoffing. 

“You said you were making dinner.” Phil laughs lightly, arranging the ingredients around so they aren’t all scattered. 

“Cake can be a dinner.” Wilbur insists, and Tommy laughs. “I’m right, Tommy back me up.”

“Cake is food.” Tommy says, turning around in his chair, Phil rolling his eyes. 

“We have some soup, I’ll warm that up for actual dinner, then we can have cake.” Phil bargains, Wilbur clicking his tongue and letting out a disappointed noise. 

“That’s no fun.” Wilbur drawls, leaning his head against his hand, looking at Tommy and raising his eyebrows in a way that makes Tommy hold back the urge to laugh again. 

Techno comes back into the kitchen with a red bottle in his hand, and he puts it in front of Wilbur, Wilbur sticking his tongue out at the sight. 

“Drink.” Techno says, nudging the bottle to Will before making his way around the table to sit by Tommy. 

Wilbur takes it without complaint, but he rolls his eyes as dramatically as he can before taking a swig of it, Techno kicking Will’s foot under the table. 

“ _What_.” Wilbur asks, kicking Techno’s foot back. 

“What?” Techno repeats, holding back a grin, and hitting Wilbur’s shin, Tommy glancing under the table to find the two of them repeatedly hitting each other, getting more intense to the point that Wilbur is slamming his foot into Techno’s knee with zero remorse. 

Techno reaches under the table and grabs Wilbur by the ankle, Wilbur yelling as he nearly gets yanked out of his seat. 

“He stole my fucking foot-!” Wilbur yells, mostly to Phil. 

“He kicked me-” Techno defends, looking to Phil as well, his smile giving away any semblance of innocence. 

“Enough, enough.” Phil laughs, and puts a bowl down in front of Tommy, Tommy seeing steam come up from the soup. “Here, Toms.”

Techno raises his hands up, letting go of Wilbur’s foot, and Will huffs, slouching down in his chair and resting his feet on Techno’s legs anyway, taking another drink from the potion in his hands. 

Tommy gets a spoon handed to him, and Techno yawns, leaning back in his chair. The bowl is warm, almost too warm, when Tommy holds his hands against it. Wilbur hums under his breath. 

Tommy moves his gaze around the kitchen, to Phil by the counter, and Wilbur and Techno at the table, and he finds that for once, after what felt like an eternity, he feels safe and reassured. The room is quiet, save for the slight noises of Phil moving stuff around, and Wilbur’s humming. It’s so terribly familiar and yet new, and Tommy’s heart aches. 

He ends up crying again, right at the table. 

He gets only hugs and kind words in response, and it makes him cry harder.

\---

After Tommy’s calmed down, and finished his food, he’s led up to go take a bath, to scrub off the dirt that’s built up on him over exile, to wash out the dullness in his hair with warm water and soap. 

He’s given clothes, actual, clean, warm clothes, and they fit just fine, just his size. His heart squeezes at the thought of the others planning this, of getting this specifically for him. A small voice in the back of his head warns of taking it for granted, wary of gifts, but Tommy shoves it down and focuses on pulling on his shirt instead, standing in front of the sink mirror.

This is alright. They’re not going to take this away, this is his to keep, he tells himself, although it doesn’t do much for the hesitant feeling in his chest. 

Tommy notices a slight mark on the side of his upper arm, and he turns in the mirror, looking over what must be an old wound, a dull scar from who knows when. He runs his hand over it, wondering just how old it is. He can’t place his finger on where he got it. 

Tommy just about goes to continue tugging his shirt on, to button it up, but he spots something bright red on his back, and his eyes go wide, as he turns as much as he can in the mirror, worried that he’s been bleeding out of his back without even knowing. 

It’s not a wound though, he’s not bleeding. He’s not hurt at all, instead, Tommy stares at his back as he finds something resembling a tattoo, a drawing on his skin. 

They’re wings, he realizes, holding his breath and reaching a hand behind him to poke at it, feeling nothing unusual. But he has wings painted across his skin, starting from the center of his back to his shoulder blades, and Tommy stares for a solid minute, blinking at his reflection. 

Bright red wings, golden feathers at the ends, drawn out on his back, and Tommy racks his brain to find an explanation. 

He’s not sure when these popped up, and he’s not sure _why_ he has a tattoo across his back. His mind wanders to Phil, with Phil’s wings, Phil knows about this, surely, but he pauses that thought process, not sure if he should even bring this up. He’s not sure if that’s a good idea, pestering Phil with this. At least not so soon, when he’s been given this much already. 

How long have these _been_ here? 

Tommy pokes at his back again, and he twists and turns, hands grabbing at his back to try and feel anything out of place, anything unusual, but there’s nothing. If he hadn’t seen it now, he might’ve not noticed it for so much more longer. Tommy’s head swims with questions, and he lets out a quiet breath, trying to push down slight panic. 

He pulls on his shirt, fixing the collar of the shirt, and it’s like it wasn’t there, hidden by fabric. Tommy pulls his shirt back down to stare at the red and gold once more. 

He decides to leave it for later, to think on this later, and he tugs his shirt over his shoulders, buttoning it up with shaking hands, and he leaves the bathroom to go downstairs, where Wilbur and Phil had been making cake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> angst??? PAIN??? Wrong, you get fluff and healing and also the promise of Dream getting dropped off a cliff eventually later on in the story. 
> 
> I love it here, thank you for reading I have no idea what I'm doing


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I DON'T KNOW NOBODYYYY LETS GOOOOOO

  
  


The stairs creak when Tommy walks down them, and he lingers on the last step for a moment, looking at the fireplace, the dimness of the room. It’s warm, kinda homey, if anything, and Tommy tells himself that if this is a dream, he never wants to wake up. He wants to sleep in this forever. 

Everything is okay, here. Still kinda fucked up, of course, Wilbur looked like he was about to pass out earlier, and Dream is still a constant thought in the back of Tommy’s head, a quiet threat, but the house is calm, silent, save for quiet chatting in the kitchen, between Wilbur and Phil. Phil laughs at something, cackling as Wilbur talks. Tommy never realized how much he missed Wilbur’s voice, with that much life in it. 

Tommy isn’t sure where Technoblade has gone, he wasn’t here when Tommy came out of the bathroom, and the house isn’t that big, so he assumes that he went out. He hopes that Techno won’t be out for long. He wants to cherish this, all of this for as long as he can. He wants all of them here, just so he can cherish this perfect little dream in his head, warm house, clean clothes, the feeling of being safe. 

Letting a small smile creep onto his face, Tommy hops off the last step, walking over to the kitchen, leaning in through the doorway to find Wilbur sitting at the table, mixing something in a bowl with a grin pointed at Phil. Phil’s standing by the counter, bandages wrapped around his shoulder, a first aid kit sitting to the side as he tugs his shirt back over his shoulders. 

Tommy stares at the bandages, feeling guilt creep into his chest, and he’s not so sure he wants to be in this kitchen anymore. 

It doesn’t matter though, because Wilbur turns his head to him, putting the bowl onto the table with a slam. Tommy flinches, just the slightest bit, but Wilbur carries on quickly, making a mental note to not repeat that. 

“Tommy!” Wilbur says, and he sounds so happy to see him, as if Tommy has hung the stars in the sky, when he’s literally just come back from a bath. It’s nice, though. 

“There you are, mate, all washed up? I hope the clothes are alright. Tweaked some of Techno’s shirts for you.” Phil says, closing the box beside him, his shirt hanging loose on his shoulders. He looks chipper, even with having been stabbed with an arrow an hour earlier. Tommy feels bad for being the indirect cause of that, but it’s overshadowed with how Phil sounds, casual and kind.

“It’s fine.” Tommy nods, tugging at his sleeve. The thought of this being Techno’s at one point, he’s not sure how to feel about that. Maybe like a cool crime boy. He’s stolen from The Blade, technically. What a feat. The thought feels silly, but he lets himself think it anyway. “Thanks.”

“Quick, Tommy, smell this cake batter, tell me if it needs paprika.” Wilbur says, holding the bowl out in front of him as Tommy walks over, leaning down. 

“ _ What _ ?” Tommy chokes out, nearly going to actually sniff it before realizing what Will’s just said, standing back up, raising his hands out in front of him. 

“Oh, my god, Will, we’re  _ not _ adding paprika.” Phil snickers, looking to Will and shaking his head, exasperated, but not mad. Just fond.

“Aw, but it would add a  _ kick _ .” Wilbur counters back, and with the way he says it, it almost sounds like a sound plan. He has that way of talking, selling an idea that’s absolute nonsense. Makes Tommy think of the pep talks he gave, back in the first days of l’manburg.

Tommy pulls a chair up, sitting across from Will. “What type of cake is it, actually?” 

“Just vanilla.” Phil shrugs, Wilbur placing the bowl onto the table, sliding it over to Tommy. 

“Smell it.” Wilbur whispers, and Tommy feels like he’s being offered drugs in a back alley. “Sniff the batter.”

“Wilbur, I swear to fuckin-” Phil starts, putting the first aid kid away. 

Tommy leans over the bowl, taking a whiff in. It’s not like it has drugs, or anything, it’s just...cake batter. 

“It’s just sweet.” He says, Wilbur nodding intensely, as if Tommy has told him state secrets. “You’re so weird.” Tommy adds, not being able to stop the grin that comes across his face, pushing the bowl back to Wilbur. 

“I just think the cake can use some  _ spice _ .” Wilbur whispers, holding up a hand, acting as if he’s sprinkling something into the batter. 

Phil walks up behind Wilbur, hands reaching around him to snatch the bowl out of his hands. “Alright, give me the bowl, enough with paprika.” 

“I was not done!” Wilbur yells, offended. Tommy laughs, Phil waving a hand as he goes to get a cake pan. 

The front door sounds with a knock, three times, before being opened. Tommy hears the sound of the wind and snow outside, howling, before it’s cut off with the door being shut. 

“I’m back.” Techno calls out, Tommy feeling his heart lift. 

“Technoblade, man of the hour, he brings-  _ OH, _ give me one-” Wilbur reaches a hand out, leaning in his chair as Techno comes into the kitchen with a small blue bag in his hand. Tommy’s not sure what’s in the bag, but Wilbur seems to know. 

Techno’s all layered up in armor and clothes, a slight bit of snow in his hair, his boots clicking as they hit against the wood floor. There’s a satchel over his shoulder, too, but Wilbur doesn’t seem that interested in that, only the small blue pouch that Techno holds. 

“These are mostly for Tommy.” Techno says, Wilbur deflating, Techno putting the bag down on the table before flicking Wilbur in the head. 

“Hey, Technoblade.” Phil greets, busy pouring out the batter into a pan as Tommy reaches for the blue pouch, fingers tugging at the string. 

“Hello.” Techno walks back out of the kitchen, calling out as he does. “I’m gonna go put my stuff away!” 

“Don’t track snow up the stairs!” Wilbur whines, raising his head up from the table. 

“Too late!” Techno yells back, and there’s the thump of boots going up the steps, Wilbur groaning. 

“What’s this?” Tommy asks under his breath, pulling the bag open to find cookies, chocolate chip cookies all stacked together in the little bag. 

“Gimme one, gimme two, actually-” Wilbur says quietly, leaning in over the table as Tommy blinks at the cookies, apparently for him, according to Techno. 

“Wilbur.” Phil says, putting the pan into the oven.

“Pass it under the table.” Wilbur whispers, Tommy pressing his lips tightly together, trying to shove down the urge to sob that’s come up his throat. Why cookies? 

Part of him wonders if he’s going to have to pay this back later, in some sort of way. Going to have to throw it into the fireplace. But Dream’s never brought him cookies. It was always tools, armor, that he got, then later on destroyed. He never got food. Dream couldn’t take back food. 

“You will have…” Tommy says, ignoring the way his voice wavers. “Half a cookie.” Wilbur frowns intensely. 

“Phil!” Wilbur immediately says, turning around in his chair, hoping for the man to make his situation better. 

“His treats, mate. His rules.” Phil says, not even turning around as he washes the bowl in the sink. 

“Oh, alright. Hand it over.” Wilbur says, holding a hand out. Tommy pulls a cookie out of the bag, breaking it in half, placing it into Wilbur’s palm with shaking hands. 

Wilbur takes it, bites into it, and holds his other hand out. Tommy pauses, then goes to give the other half of the cookie, and Wilbur just makes a weird disagreeing sound, pushing the cookie back, before holding his hand out again. 

“What?” Tommy asks, and Wilbur raises his eyebrows, chewing silently. 

Tommy looks at Wilbur’s hand resting on the table, then places his own hand over it, Wilbur curling his fingers around Tommy’s and seeming happy, just staying like that, eating his half of a cookie. 

He’s not cold, Tommy notes, and he squeezes Wilbur’s hand, really hoping he doesn’t wake up any time soon now. He hopes he doesn’t have to wake up to Dream saying good morning, leaning into his tent, another routine, another interaction with a man who’s his friend, but doesn’t make him feel anything the way he does with the people in this house. Tommy feels content, calm, and he nibbles at the treat in his hand, wishing with everything he has that this isn’t going to end anytime soon. 

Technoblade comes back downstairs, now without the armor, the cape, his sword, satchel. He’s just wearing his simple clothes, and he looks at home, yawning as he goes to fall into a chair beside Tommy. 

“What’d you get?” Wilbur asks, nodding his head to Techno. 

“Some more arrows, books to enchant, wool.” Techno shrugs, Wilbur humming. 

“Where’d you go?” Tommy asks, making a face. Where would Techno get anything in this snowy, empty, biome?

“There’s a village not too far from here, over in that direction.” Techno answers, off into one of the walls. “I trade for supplies whenever I need them.”

Wilbur snorts. “He has a fuckton of emeralds.” Techno smiles, and Tommy wonders just how much is that. 

“Oh, speaking of emeralds!” Phil pats his hands dry on a towel, finishing up with dishes. “Tommy, do you still have yours?” Tommy can see an emerald hanging from Phil’s ear, and Phil pulls a necklace out from under his shirt, grinning and raising it up to show Tommy. Techno has his own on his ear as well, small, shiny. 

Tommy thinks back to when Phil visited him, brought him boots, brought him that ‘Friendship Emerald’, as he called it. He had appreciated it, he had, and he had tried his best to be on his good behavior, so he wouldn’t have to lose it. He still did anyway. Those explosions that time hurt a little more than the others. 

“I, uh-” Tommy thinks about how he had nearly begged, pleaded to just keep his stuff, just this once Dream, please- “I lost it.” He chokes out, throat feeling tight. 

Phil doesn’t seem too upset, though, quickly walking over to the other room. “Thought you might’ve. Didn’t have much time to bring anything over when we picked you up.” Phil says lightly, coming back, waving something in his hand. 

He asks for Tommy’s wrist, and he gives it over, Wilbur squeezing his other hand that’s still on the table. A second later, there’s a thin bracelet around his wrist, a little green emerald hanging from it. 

Tommy turns his wrist over, looking at it in the light of the kitchen, blinking. 

“Ta-da!” Phil clasps his hands together, looking proud. “Is it alright?”

“Yeah.” Tommy says, voice strained, and Techno puts a hand onto his shoulder, comforting. “Its, it’s-” Tommy cuts himself off, keeping his head down, and sobs. Phil doesn’t seem to mind, just walking up to Tommy’s side, holding a hand to the side of his head, Tommy leaning into his side. 

“I don’t-” Tommy wipes the back of his hand against his face. “I don’t know why I keep, keep crying today.”

“It’s alright, Tommy.” Phil reassures, and Tommy nods, shoulders shaking. 

\---

Dream wakes up to hitting the floor harshly, falling off a horse that pauses suddenly. He hits the sand, groaning. His neck feels sore. 

Pushing himself off the ground, he looks up, hears the sound of slow waves, a few birds flying overhead. He looks up to see a worn down, old white tent just a little far off. 

Everything comes rushing back, and he gets to his feet, running to the tent. 

“No.” He says, fists held tightly as he runs. “No, no, no-” 

Yanking the tent flaps open, he finds nothing, no Tommy, like there should be. Just the few belongings thrown around, the sad excuse of a bed, empty. 

“No, no.” Dream breaths out, feeling his heart drop. This isn’t good. None of this is good. His mind flashes to Tommy, in the snow, running to Technoblade, rather than Dream.  _ Techno _ , rather than him.

He holds his hands to the side of his head, thinking back, remembering the blue colors Phil and Techno wore, and what was it that Phil said-

‘ _ As of now, Tommy is under the protection of the Antarctic Empire _ ’, he had said, an unspoken threat in his eyes, sword held out. 

“Fuck.” Dream says, his heart falling even more, chest feeling ice cold, something like fear creeping up his spine. “Fuck!” 

Phil and Techno teaming up, that’s already a headache, that’s already something that would be tedious, but not impossible to pick apart. He could’ve had Tommy as a bargaining chip, found a way to pick off Phil, leave Techno all alone. Angry, but in grief, easy to work with. It would’ve made the threat fall apart within a  _ week _ . 

But now he’s lost the kid, because Tommy chose Technoblade over him, even after all that work, after all those words, all those nights, he still chose Techno, even with Dream’s constant insistence,  _ he _ was the only one Tommy could trust,  _ he _ was the only one who cared. Curse the stubborn choices of that kid.

“Dammit!” Dream yells, hot anger in his chest. He grabs the top of the tent and yanks, letting it fall over. It was frail anyway, easy to topple. It’s a wonder it stayed up this long. 

Dream can’t let Tommy stay with them. He can’t. If Tommy heals, Tommy grows, he’ll become something that’ll be such a  _ pain _ to shove down. 

The teen could become something that might even  _ win _ , Dream’s head thinks, and he pushes that thought away too quickly, taking a deep breath in. 

He has to find a way to stop that. 

He needs to find a way to get the manpower to  _ destroy _ that threat. 

Turning to the horse still standing to the side, Dream makes his way over, yanking at the reins, looking around for a pocket, supplies, something-

He finds a small piece of cloth, a flag of some sort, a symbol, blue and whitel. He recognizes it with a grimace, and he crumples it in his hand, shoving it into his pocket. 

Turning back to the empty land, no longer holding Tommy, Dream drags his eyes over the log walls in the back, over the tent that’s pushed over. 

He reaches for his tnt, and a flint and steel. 

\---

Ten minutes later, after a rather therapeutic amount of arson, Dream stalks through the nether with a self made wound in his back, which had been nearly impossible to get right, but he managed.

He walks through the nether with a story cooking up in his head, and a piece of cloth in his hand, and he walks into l’manburg with a mission, anger set into his walk, determination set in his shoulders. 

A few people notice, ask about the blood on his back, and he keeps walking, searching, until he finally comes across the president of the country, who’s tending to bees, of all things. 

“Tubbo.” Dream grits out, voice pained, forcing the feeling of loss into his tone. 

“Oh, Dream, I didn’t-” Tubbo turns around, nearly yells at the state of the man in front of him. “Oh god! Are you okay?”

“I need you to come with me.” Dream says as a response, Tubbo faltering. 

“W-what?”

“I need you to-” Dream pauses, shaking his head. “I’m- Tommy, he _ - _ ” Tubbo’s whole mood shifts, and his eyes go wide with worry, hands tightening around the flower he holds. 

“What’s happened?” Tubbo asks. Dream lets silence sit for a moment. There’s shuffling behind him, the other people of the town peeking in, listening in at the door. “Dream, what’s happened?!”

Dream smiles behind his mask. But his voice sounds broken. “I need you to come with me. Please.”

“Lead the way.”

So they walk, Tubbo at his heels, making their way to the portal, tense silence in the air. A few people follow, throwing questions into the air, but both him and Tubbo stay silent, and no words come to answer. People linger around the portal as Tubbo and Dream walk through, and it’s just him and Tubbo as they walk along the bridge, lava far, far below. 

A small part of Dream wonders what would happen if he were to just, push. Off the bridge, to the hot magma below. 

It’s just a fun thought, and Dream puts it aside, continuing his walk, choosing to keep that for later on, after he’s gotten this whole situation taken care of. 

They get to the portal, walking through the other side, to where Tommy’s base is supposed to be. 

Or was.

It’s in ruins, logstedshire nothing more than a burning pile of black wood, and there’s small craters in the ground, placed in a certain line, as if it was set up, prepared. 

Tubbo’s stood still in horror, turning around in place as he looks at the damage, and he spots the tent where Tommy resided, running over to it. It’s just dirty cloth in a pile on the floor, now, but Tubbo still yanks at it, desperately searching, tears pricking at the end of his eyes. 

“Tommy, Tommy-” Tubbo chokes out, getting to his feet, taking a few steps back, looking around. “Tommy!” He screams, cupping his hands around his mouth. “TOMMY!”

“He’s not here.” Dream says softly, Tubbo turning to him, taking gasping breaths in, tears streaming down his face. 

“Where is he?!” Tubbo yells, Dream pulling the cloth out of his pocket. 

“I tried protecting him.” Dream says, Tubbo shaking his head. 

“WHERE IS HE?!” 

Dream holds out the blue fabric, Tubbo pausing, hiccuping quietly as he stares at it for a moment, before snatching it from Dream’s hand. He holds it out, face confused as he stares at the design. 

“What, what is this?” He asks, looking up to Dream, eyes wide.

“The Antarctic Empire.” Dream answers, voice solemn. “I tried to stop them. The place was rigged, I noticed too late.”

Tubbo stays quiet, staring at Dream. 

“They got away with him before I could do anything.” He says gently. “I’m sorry.” 

Tubbo turns his head back down to the cloth in his hands, face unreadable. He still cries, tears coming down his cheeks, but his face shifts into something more fierce. 

“Who, exactly, is the Antarctic Empire?”

\---

Tubbo comes back through the portal to a small crowd, people worried, curious. Tubbo just looks pissed.

“As of today!” He yells, everyone falling quiet, as he stands just in front of the portal, Dream leaning against the obsidian. “Philza and Technoblade are wanted criminals of l’manburg, for the kidnapping of TommyInnit!” 

Tubbo’s voice holds no room for argument, no room for questioning, and everyone rises up in yelling, realizing Phil hasn’t been around in too long, Technoblade has been too quiet, these days. Things get louder, things get heated, and Tubbo holds the blue cloth in his hand like he’s trying to kill it. 

Dream smiles. 

\---

Tommy’s staring at the fireplace, the flames constant, warm, almost therapeutic with the way they’re alive, burning. He leans against Techno, tucked under his arm, a cape over them both as Wilbur sits beside Techno’s side, rambling about who knows what. Phil sits beside Tommy, laughing whenever Wilbur’s said something ridiculous. 

It’s warm, safe, and Tommy feels his eyelids grow heavy, his limbs become tired as he sinks into Techno, sighing. There’s a hand running through his hair, and Tommy fights against closing his eyes, tries to keep staring at the fire. He doesn’t want to sleep. He’s afraid if he does, it’ll end too soon, he’ll wake up in his tent, this wonderful dream coming to an end. 

He still yawns, though, blinking his eyes blearily to keep awake. 

“Tired?” Techno murmurs, and Tommy makes a noise of disagreement, trying to sit up properly. “You should probably rest a little.”

“I don’t want to wake up from this.” Tommy mumbles, blinking his eyes over and over, trying to fight sleep. “I just wanna, wanna keep this a little longer.”

Techno doesn’t respond for a moment, and there’s a sharp pang of fear when Tommy feels himself drift off, the room quiet, Wilbur having gone silent, Phil quiet as well-

Something pinches him  _ hard _ on his cheek, and he swears, jolting up, eyes open, rubbing at his face. “Ow! What the fuck?” He turns to Techno, who only smiles, holding his thumb and pointer finger up, not even denying the fact he did that. 

Wilbur grins, and leans forward, reaching a hand out and pinching Tommy on the arm, Tommy slapping him and scooting away, out from under Techno’s arm. “Ow! No, stop it! What was that for!?”

“Not a dream.” Techno answers breezily. “Look, I’ll prove it again-” And he reaches his hand out, Tommy screaming, scooting back into Phil, who laughs and wraps his arms around Tommy. 

“Okay, okay.” Phil says, Tommy glad that at least Phil has mercy. Wilbur raises his eyebrows, then turns his sight to Technoblade, pinching him in the arm, Techno jolting. 

“You really wanna test that?” Techno warns, turning to Wilbur, who’s looking like he regrets all of his current life choices right now. “Oh, you  _ really _ want to test that, Wilbur-?”

“No, no, no,  _ nO- _ ” Wilbur shrieks, Technoblade practically dragging him by the ankle when he tries to scoot away. “OW, PHIL!” 

“Rest in peace, mate.” Phil laughs, Techno cackling. 

Tommy grins, then smiles as wings come up and wrap around him, Phil resting his chin onto Tommy’s hair as Techno and Wilbur fight it out to the side. Phil pinches him lightly on the nose.

“Not a dream.” Phil says, grinning at the way Wilbur screams at getting pinched in the sides, yelling for help. “Welcome home, Tommy.”

Tommy smiles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sneak peak of the next chapters???
> 
> Dream: give Tommy back
> 
> Phil and Techno, with Tommy literally standing beside them: Who? Never heard of him, you're crazy, get off my property
> 
> or
> 
> Wilbur, upon getting certain parts of his memory back: I Am Going To Commit A Murder Against A certain Green Man
> 
> lmao, thanks for reading!!! much love


	6. Chapter 6

  
  


Tommy wouldn’t go as far as to say that he has a decent sleep schedule, because he most definitely doesn’t, but he likes to think that when he does fall to sleep, it’s perfectly fine. 

Okay, it’s not. 

He’s woken up in the middle of the night too many times to count, either just nearly screaming in his tent, staring into the dark with gasping breaths, or waking up to water soaking into his clothes, finding that he’s somehow found his way to the shore, the cold water dragging him into consciousness. 

God, the sleepwalking nights were never fun. 

He’s sure that he could sleep just fine, if his conditions just weren’t so shitty. Not that he’s going to complain, because Dream isn’t really fond of when he complains about stuff, and Tommy hates to make him upset. Times where Dream comes to visit in a bad mood, it never ends well, and each time Tommy’s repeating to himself that he really doesn’t want to be around him when he’s like this, when he talks to Tommy like he can’t do anything right. He just tries his best to be easy to work with, for Dream, because, they’re friends, they are, and sometimes, friends have bad days, and Tommy can work with that.

Although, on those days, Tommy wishes they were anything but friends, he wishes Dream wouldn’t visit him at all-

Tommy opens his eyes with a sharp breath, almost immediately gritting his teeth and blinking his eyes through the warm light so he can try and ground himself. 

Wait.

Light?

Tommy holds his breath when he realizes something, or someone, is beside him, and he looks down to find a wing held over him, like some sort of blanket. He lets his breath out, slowly, telling himself it’s Phil, has to be. Forcing shaky breaths through him, Tommy glances behind him to find Phil, as he thought, asleep and dead to the world. There’s a quiet snore coming from him as he sleeps, and Tommy can only stare and blink, raising his hands up to his own face and patting at his eyes, only slightly surprised to find them wet. 

Swallowing down the slight feeling of panic in his throat, at being somewhere that isn’t his tent, Tommy turns back around, resting his head back onto the rug, looking ahead of him and seeing Techno and Wilbur, just barely visible in the dying light of the fire. 

It’s rather dim in the room, so Tommy has to squint to even properly know what they’re doing, and he’s not sure how to feel when he realizes they’re both knocked out, sleeping peacefully. Techno’s thrown an arm over Wilbur, shoving his face into his shoulder, his pink hair splayed out behind him on the rug, out of the way. Wilbur just has his head leaning on Techno’s, a hand resting on Technoblade’s arm over his torso. 

They look peaceful. Or something like that, peaceful isn’t quite the right word, and Tommy tries to think as he wipes the back of his hand against his eyes, not being able to look away from the two of them, the ever so feared blood god, hugging Wilbur like he’s a stuffed bear, and Wilbur, who’s…breathing steadily. Alive. 

Tommy’s heart  _ aches _ , and he fists his shirt in his hands, ignoring the fact tears are pricking at his eyes again, when he just wiped them away. 

They look  _ safe _ . That’s the word, that’s what he was looking for. Tommy can’t help but look at them and feel absolute relief, seeing Wilbur okay, seeing Technoblade beside him. 

It’s a bit surreal, being awake at this hour, only to open his eyes in a warm house, with people he might trust sleeping right beside him, rather than waking up to a chill of the night and a dark, torn up tent. It’s such a contrast, and for a second, Tommy actually considers this being a really intense, elaborate dream, but he’s pretty sure that waking up in a dream is along the lines of rare, so, maybe not?

Does it matter either way? Tommy wants to just kinda have this, wants to close his eyes again and sleep with the assurance that there are people right at his side. He wants to have just this one thing. Just to be safe, to look safe, like Wilbur, Techno, even Phil. They sleep so soundly, as if there aren’t any problems they’re running from. 

As if Tommy isn’t in a shitload of trouble. 

A sharp cold pang of fear strikes into his chest as the day catches up to him, and he replays the scenes in his head, waking up this morning only to be greeted with a unexpected Technoblade standing in his tent, looking around with a displeased face, and then Phil, and then they ran, they fucking  _ ran- _

He told Techno to turn around, that has to count for something, right? If Dream asks, that’ll be some sort of defense, right? He did try, he did! He tried getting back! Dream wouldn’t be that mad if Tommy had said he tried to make Technoblade turn the horse around-

But he didn’t even try that much. He didn’t even make that big of an effort, when Techno had apologized, admitted to wanting to visit, and then Dream caught up, and they fell, and then it was Techno and Dream, both there, and Tommy was stuck with a stupid, stupid choice-

Tommy tries to keep his breaths even and slow as he swallows down fear, realizing just how much he fucked up. 

He chose Techno.

He ran to Techno, instead of Dream. 

There’s a small part of him, in the back of his head that screams in defiance, something along the lines of ‘and I’d do it again!’ and Tommy would agree, but he’s too busy panicking over possible consequences, for when he gets back.

Does he have to go back? 

He doesn’t want to go back, but he doesn’t want Dream to come pick him up either, that would be worse. Either way, it’s going to be Dream, and Tommy doesn’t want that, he wants to be selfish, he wants to stay  _ here- _

Oh god, he needs to go back. He has to go back, Dream’s going to be pissed, even more pissed if he has to drag Tommy back, instead of Tommy returning on his own, and Tommy knows that if he was smarter, he would be planning a way to return, right now. 

Instead, he makes a small noise of distress, holding his hands to the sides of his head, battling with the rational option and the option that he  _ wants _ , because he wants to stay here, he wants for Dream to be just a stray thought, forgotten about, he doesn’t want to talk to him ever again, but-

The wing that’s laying over him shifts, and Tommy tries to hold his breath, only choking on a sob instead. There’s a hand gently grabbing his arm, tugging him.

“Hey.” He hears Phil whisper, and Tommy is so goddamn grateful for the fact that for a good three seconds, the sharp spike of fear in his chest lessens into something manageable. “Tommy?” 

Tommy considers the option of pretending he’s asleep, glancing at Wilbur’s sleeping face before deciding he probably won’t get anywhere with that, Phil will most likely just be stubborn. 

And he is, tugging at Tommy’s arm again, making him turn over to face him, and Tommy doesn’t even bother trying to look less pathetic, tears over his face as he rolls over to see Phil half-asleep, eyes open in worry. 

“Oh, Tommy.” Phil murmurs, Tommy biting the inside of his cheek to keep from going into a full on sob, but his shoulders still shake as he takes in a sharp, shaky breath, blinking tears out of his eyes. He stares into Phil’s shoulder, rather than looking up at his face, feeling like he wants to curl up into a ball and pop out of existence, and also feeling like he wants to latch onto Phil and never let go. “It’s alright, hey.” 

Phil slowly reaches out to him, pulling him close for a hug, and Tommy goes for his second option and latches onto Phil, hands grabbing at the back of his shirt, just under where his wings are. Phil tucks Tommy’s head under his chin, holding Tommy tight, rubbing a hand up and down Tommy’s back, comforting. He keeps one wing folded behind his back and one wing wrapped around Tommy, like he’s trying to block out whatever is making him upset. 

“It’s okay.” Phil whispers, Tommy only sniffling in response, pulling at Phil’s shirt. 

“I fucked up. I fucked up so bad.” Tommy mumbles, curling in on himself as much as he can in Phil’s arms. “I- You gotta take me back, Phil.”

“ _ No _ .” Phil answers, and he says it with a slight anger under his voice, sharp determination. Tommy has to actually pause, eyes wide as Phil sighs, rephrasing it. “No. You don’t need to go back, Tommy. I’d rather you not go back.” 

“Dream-”

“Not a problem anymore.” Phil insists, raising a hand up to run his fingers through the curls at the back of Tommy’s head. “He’s never coming near you again.” 

“You can’t be sure of that.” Tommy disagrees, Phil not wavering. Even with Techno and Phil, even with Tommy knowing they’re not a force to be reckoned with, when together, his mind still tells him that Dream can’t just be stopped. It isn’t that easy. 

Tommy’s suddenly reminded of Dream unconscious in the snow, at Phil’s hands, and he’s not so sure about how powerful Dream really is, now. 

“No, I  _ know _ .” Phil scoots back, hands grabbing at Tommy’s face so he can look right at him. “Dream is never getting you again. That exile, that little tent, you are never going back there.”

“And what if Dream…” Tommy trails off, taking in a deep breath at how earnest Phil looks, about this. “What if he’s mad, and he comes-”

“He’s not allowed here.” Phil reassures, Tommy trying to hold his breath and failing as he cries. “He would have to get through me, Techno,  _ and _ Wilbur, and I know for a fact I would rather die than let him get to you.” 

“Oh, please don’t die for me.” Tommy tries joking, but it comes out more desperate sounding if anything. “I couldn’t take that.”

“I’m not dying.” Phil grins, Tommy laughing quietly, tears mixed in. “I’m just saying, to get my point across. Dream can be as angry as he wants, his little game is done.” 

“Really?” Tommy mumbles, smiling. 

“Yes.” Phil assures, and Tommy shakes his head the slightest bit, shoulders shaking with both a sad laugh and a small sob. Phil just presses a kiss into Tommy’s hair, hugging him close again, and Tommy struggles to not really cry, because maybe he can have what he wanted. Maybe he can have that ‘safe’ feeling. 

He feels safe now, leaning against Phil, in a warm, quiet home, miles away from Dream, miles away from problems. It’s just a quiet, cold night, and he’s okay. Maybe not entirely, but okay enough to know that he can do what he wants, and he’s not going to let the fear of consequences rule him. 

At the very least, he’s going to try to not let the fear rule him.

“Tommy?” Wilbur whispers loudly, rubbing a hand at his eyes, squinting over to where there’s just a bit of blond hair visible, under Phil’s wing. He smacks Technoblade’s arm a few times to get him to wake up and let go of him. “Is he alright?”

“He’s fine.” Phil reassures, smiling warmly. Techno groans, annoyed. 

“I was  _ sleeping _ .” He says, Wilbur only giving a light smack onto the back of his head. 

“You’re sleeping on me.” Wilbur informs, Techno saying something in response, but it’s lost in his shirt, Techno not bothering to raise his head so his words are actually not entirely muffled. “I have no idea what the fuck you just said.” 

Phil snickers, sitting up from the ground, still holding onto Tommy as he gets up, folding his wing behind his back. “Maybe something about not just sleeping on the floor?” 

“Maybe.” Wilbur shrugs, Techno sighing loudly, before going to get up, only to get dragged back down. “What time is it?” Wilbur asks casually, as if he didn’t just yank Techno into faceplanting back into his shoulder. 

“Too late.” Tommy mumbles, turning his head to Wilbur, not being able to stop the grin on his face when he sees Wilbur looking back up at him, eyes bright. 

Technoblade pats a hand on Wilbur’s chest, sitting up with a long yawn, blinking slight tears out of his eyes. “It’s still night?” He glances to one of the windows, snow falling outside. “It’s still night. Huh.” 

Phil snorts. “Let’s just go into actual beds this time.” He suggests, holding an arm out. “Swap?” He asks, referring to Tommy and Wilbur, and Techno yawns again, before nodding and getting to his feet, walking over to Tommy to take him from Phil. 

Tommy ends up getting a piggyback ride from Techno, and he can’t help from grinning wide and hitting a hand at Techno’s shoulder, pointing a hand ahead. “Onwards.” He orders, Techno rolling his eyes as he goes upstairs. 

Tommy hears Phil speak quietly to Wilbur as they go, and he leans his chin onto Techno’s head, staring at Phil and Wilbur until they’re out of view. 

“But the floor is  _ comfortable- _ ” He hears Wilbur saying.

“You know what would also be comfortable? A bed.”

“Hmmm.” 

Tommy holds back a snort as Techno makes his way over to a room, pushing the door open with his foot. He takes two steps in, lingering by the doorway as Tommy wraps his arms around his neck, squinting around in the dark room. It looks like there’s a desk by the window, some swords leaning against the wall, chests stacked in the corner. There’s two beds, on opposite sides of the room, and Tommy stares at the one that’s neat and untouched, like it hasn’t been slept in yet. 

“That one’s your bed.” Techno yawns. “And this one is mine.” 

“I want that one.” Tommy immediately says, pointing over Techno’s shoulder. 

“That’s mine.”

“Said what I said.” 

Techno just sighs deeply, but Tommy can tell he’s smiling, and he smiles with him. “I’m just not surprised.” 

Tommy drifts back into the sleep that night with Technoblade beside him, a blanket thrown over them both. He’s content as ever, leaning his head against Techno, knowing that the chances of getting attacked in his sleep are negative, with Technoblade right there. He’s safe. Falling asleep is easy at that point, the only thing in his way being the quiet ache in his back. 

His back feels sore, he thinks, but it’s lost in thought as he falls to sleep again, for the second time that night. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FUCK canon, all my homes hate canon, I'm here for the COMFORT
> 
> lmao, I'm tired now, Imma sleep


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEYO I am a fool who has a shit sleep schedule but at least I can make words, lets go

  
  


“Put the stuff in the hole, Tommy.” Dream waves a hand at the hole in the ground, voice tired and fed up. He sounds like he couldn’t be bothered to be here. “You know the drill.” 

“I know.” Tommy mutters, hating the hot anger and fear that settles in his heart. “I know, I know, but-” He hates the way his voice wavers, and the way his hands tremble when Dream finally turns to actually face him.

“Tommy, I don’t have time for this right now. I got things to do.” 

“I  _ know _ , I’m sorry, but-” Tommy takes a step back, and knows immediately it’s made everything worse, because Dream’s mood shifts, and his attention goes from distracted and annoyed to on Tommy, angry- “I worked really hard on this-!” 

“Just put your stuff in the ground! How hard is that?” Dream asks, Tommy stammering, and he doesn’t know why he’s being so stubborn today, of all days, if he had really wanted to try this, he should’ve tried a day where Dream was in a good mood, but he just can’t let go.

“Can, can I just keep this?” He pleads. “Just for today! I can- I’ll give it tomorrow, really-”

“No, Tommy.” 

“I swear! I’ll give it tomorrow, I will, but I-” 

“No, because then you’ll want another day, and then another, and then another, and then you won’t  _ listen _ . And then it’ll be on you as to what happens after that.” Dream says, voice low and sharp, and it cuts into Tommy with each word, but even with the warning in his voice, there’s a stubbornness that won’t leave Tommy’s chest. “Give your stuff. Stop being childish.” 

“Fuck you.” Tommy mumbles out, and the air goes still. Tommy swears that time stops for a split second, and Dream raises his head, staring at Tommy through his mask. 

He just stares, and Tommy’s hands shake more and more with each moment that passes, and regret crawls up his throat, making him feel sick, and Tommy knows he can’t see any sort of emotion in that smiley mask of Dream’s, but he looks angry, he’s angry-

Oh god, what has he done-

Tommy opens his eyes with quiet gasp, nearly choking on his fear when he realizes there’s an arm around him and his face is tucked into someone’s chest. He’s about to kick, punch, swear as loud as he can, but he realizes that he’s not being held down, he’s just being held. It’s just Technoblade. His heart beats loud in his chest, in his ears, and for a second he thinks it’s going to be loud enough to actually wake up Technoblade from his sleep.

But there’s a quiet snore that continues over his head, and Tommy blinks away tears threatening to overflow, instead focusing on breathing, bringing his hands up to his chest, feeling his heartbeat beat fast through his shirt. 

It’s fine, he tells himself, it’s alright. He’s okay. 

Dream isn’t here. 

But it still doesn’t get the feeling of eyes off his back, the feeling of being in trouble, being in danger, and he takes a deep breath in, holding it, and shoving his face into Techno’s shirt, trying to block out his thoughts. 

He holds his breath, for as long as he can, staying as still as possible, because maybe if he just doesn’t move, Techno won’t leave, and he can stay here, being perfectly safe. No one would dare attack him if he’s in Technoblade’s arms. No one would even  _ think _ about hurting him when Techno is right here, like a shield. 

Techno shifts in his sleep, and there’s a hand on Tommy’s back, the quiet snoring gone. 

“Tommy.” Techno says quietly, his hand moving to Tommy’s shoulder, shaking him a little bit, and Tommy lets out his breath in one fell swoop, gasping for air right after. “Hey, hey-”

Techno goes to scoot back so he can see Tommy properly, but Tommy latches onto his torso, staying close, so Techno just tries to talk instead. “Are you okay? Tommy?”

“I’m up.” Tommy says, words muffled in fabric, and he can feel Techno sigh, sounding relieved. A hand rests on his back again, Techno tracing small circles at the back of his neck. 

“Were you holding your breath?” He asks, and Tommy nearly goes to hold his breath again, before forcing himself to keep his breathing steady. He’s worried for a moment Techno might be mad, or annoyed, but there’s just pure worry in his voice. He sighs again. “I thought you stopped breathing.” 

“Sorry.” Tommy mutters out, Techno humming. 

“Bad dream?”

“Something like that.” 

The room is dim with the curtains closed, and it’s still rather early morning. The moment Technoblade knows Tommy’s breathing fine, he goes back into being drowsy, yawning quietly as he tries to guess what time it is. It’s still and quiet, and if Techno listens hard enough, he can hear faint voices from the room over, Wilbur and Phil talking. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” 

There’s a moment of hesitation, and Tommy shakes his head, and Techno doesn’t press it, only closes his eyes again. 

“We’re okay.” Techno says anyway, words careful. “We’re alright.” 

“I know.” Tommy mumbles, uncharacteristically quiet and frail, and Techno wonders how long it’s been for him like this. How long has he woken up, each time with bad dreams taking over his mind. Techno would know a thing or two about unrestful sleep. It itches at him for Tommy to experience anything similar. 

There’s a twinge of anger, at Dream, for doing this to Tommy, for breaking down a kid into something scared, and at himself, for not stopping it. 

He thought Tommy would be fine. 

But then, Wilbur was back, and with what little he remembered, he told about Dream visiting, about Tommy taking care of himself, entirely on his own. Dream’s never up to any good. The pure idea of him visiting Tommy regularly in exile, when Tommy didn’t have a way to opt out, that alone made him and Phil decide that Tommy would be better off with them, even if tensions would be high. They were expecting for Tommy to be angry, to be snappish and stubborn. 

Not scared. 

He’s just so much more  _ scared _ , now, and it makes Techno want to just squeeze Tommy in his arms and never let go, so he never has to hurt again, but healing doesn’t work like that. 

Unfortunately, even if Techno goes to stab Dream in the gut, it won’t undo the way Tommy is hesitant, and it won’t undo whatever the hell Dream’s said to him over the past weeks. 

Techno just keeps a hand on Tommy’s back, telling himself it’ll be okay. From now on, it’s all okay, and if Dream even dares to try anything, both him and Phil have countermeasures in place. They will wipe that smiley mask off the fucking  _ planet,  _ if he tries anything. 

But that’s a concern for later. 

Tommy raises his head as voices from the room next to them sound out, and he seems to realize it’s Phil and Wilbur, both him and Techno listening in on their muffled conversation. Techno can’t make out what they’re both saying, but it goes quiet for a moment, then-

“I’M GOING TO COMMIT A MURDER!” He hears Wilbur yell, a door slamming open, and Tommy jolts in his arms, Techno only incredibly confused, but not particularly worried. He’s more intrigued, if anything.

He hears Phil follow out into the hallway, footsteps fast and loud. “Wilbur, don’t you dare run down the stairs-”

“I swear to fucking god, he had the audacity to do that, I’m going to  _ shank _ him, I’m going to  _ strangle _ that green motherfucker-” Wilbur talks loudly, the sound of footsteps going down the stairs with a stomp, fast enough to where Techno wouldn’t be surprised if he ends up tripping. 

“Wilbur-” Phil calls, then chokes on a laugh, both their voices moving downstairs. 

There’s a few seconds of silence in the room, then Tommy huffs out a laugh, scoffing. “What the fuck was that?”

Techno shrugs, making an unsure noise. “Wilbur probably just remembered something specific. Guess he’s going to commit a murder.” 

“He won’t actually.” Tommy says back, his tone almost questioning. 

“Guess we’ll see.” Techno responds breezily, Tommy snickering. 

He pushes at Technoblade to scoot back, and Techno takes his arm off, but doesn’t really move, only yawns for a second time, Tommy copying a second after. 

Tommy pushes at him, once, and Techno just makes a noise of acknowledgement, not opening his eyes. He gets pushed again, more strength behind it, and again, and he realizes Tommy’s trying to push him off the bed. 

“Are you seriously trying to kick me off my own bed?” Techno mutters, cracking his eyes open to look down at Tommy, who pushes at Technoblade with a grin. 

“My bed now, bitch. You can have that one.” He points to the other bed across the room, the one that was supposed to be for Tommy. Techno doesn’t think it’ll be used anytime soon, though. 

“Okay.” Techno hums, then rolls over onto Tommy, ignoring the shriek that comes with it. He’s careful to not actually hurt him, but Tommy still complains like he’s getting killed. 

“Oh, motherfucker- get off! I’m dying, I’m suffocating, you’re killing me-”

“Uh-huh.” Techno answers, not bothering to hold back a smile and just closing his eyes again as Tommy kicks his shin. 

“You’re squishing me, you fucking- don’t you  _ dare _ fall asleep on me, I will yell for Phil and complain very loudly-” 

“Can’t hear you. I’m sleeping.”

“You are  _ not- _ ” Tommy gives a punch into his arm, a laugh coming from him, even with him trying to sound pissed off. “Fucking prick, you-” He laughs again. 

He kicks and is able to slip out from under Techno, leaning against the wall as Techno stays splayed out on the bed, Tommy tucking his knees to his chest.    
  


“You’re hogging the bed.”

“Last I checked, it  _ is _ my bed.” Techno responds, pushing some hair out of his face. His braid has more or less become undone overnight, and it lays in a mess behind him, strands falling out of a braid that’s barely held together. 

Tommy grabs a handful of his hair carefully, then drops it onto Techno’s face, Techno huffing and trying to blow it to the side. 

“Why is your hair all long?” Tommy asks, tugging at a part of it, Techno just grunting into the pillow instead of actually getting up. “Seems like a lot of work.”

“Looks cool.” Techno responds, Tommy making a face like he disagrees. “And Phil usually braids it for me.” 

“I want to braid it.” Tommy declares, voice stubborn and determined, twisting pink hair through his fingers. Techno just huffs with a grin. 

“Like you know how.”

“Fuck you, I am an expert, in like, everything.” Tommy mutters, but Techno is right, he hasn’t got a clue on how to get the intricate patterns Phil makes, but he could learn. The possibility of him actually learning that sounds kinda cool, and Tommy flips the idea over in his head, before deciding to try asking later. 

He lets go of Techno’s hair, letting it fall specifically onto Techno’s face, and he then goes to climb over Techno’s legs, getting off the bed and stretching his arms up with a groan. 

“My back fucking hurts.” Tommy whines, rolling his shoulders back with a frown. He’s sore, and it wasn’t noticeable when he has just woken up, but now that he’s standing and stretching, it’s a lot more prominent. 

“Well, you did fall asleep on the floor.” Technoblade points out, sitting up and pushing his hair out of his face. 

“Uhg.” Tommy gives as a response, wrapping his arms around himself, noting the slight chill of the floor, of the air. Makes sense, if they’re in the snow biome. He feels like he’s going to have to get used to the cold, now. 

There’s the chests in the corner with Techno’s stuff, and a familiar red cape is thrown over the top of it, folded somewhat neatly. 

Tommy grabs it without a single regret, pulling it over his shoulders, a slight feeling of hesitation rising up in his chest. When he turns to Techno, he expects him to be ticked off, to tell him to take the cape off and put it away, because it’s not his. 

Techno doesn’t look bothered, and instead is busy putting his hair into a ponytail, giving a glance to Tommy and huffing with a grin. 

Tommy flips him off and goes for the door. 

The cape is soft, warm, and it’s a lot more than anything Tommy has been given over the past few weeks. His mind wanders to the small, thin blanket Dream had given him, once, before he had to burn it. 

This is a lot better, he’ll argue. 

He leaves the door open behind him as he walks out into the hallway, and as he makes his way over to the stairs, he tries to have full confidence, tells himself that if he acts high and mighty enough, then maybe the others will decide it’s too much of a hassle to take anything away. 

Walk like he owns the place, he knows that well enough. Or knew it. 

Wilbur and Phil’s voices are more audible as he walks downstairs, and he can hear Wilbur ranting, talking quickly as Phil just gives small input. There’s the smell of something cooking. 

“-all of it, gone! A dirt shack, a stupid, tiny, good for nothing shelter in the middle of the rain- oh, I should have punched him, I was being so content-”

“Not your fault.”

“Of course not! But it’s  _ his _ fault, and I’m going to strangle him-” 

For a second, Tommy’s worried they’re talking about him, and that he’s done something wrong without knowing. But as he tries to think about what Wilbur’s saying, he does remember the start of exile, a terrible shelter in the rain, Dream having blown up all his things for the first time. 

He walks to the doorway of the kitchen, pausing, and lingering there as Phil and Wilbur turn their heads to him. 

“Oh, Tommy-” Phil starts, then pauses, and puts a hand over his mouth. His eyes narrow as he smiles behind his hand, and he turns back to where he’s cooking food, looking like he’s holding back a small laugh. “Mornin, mate. Sleep well?” 

Wilbur doesn’t even bother to be polite and spare Tommy the embarrassment, he jumps right into teasing, laughter mixed in with his words. “Aw, you’ve got Techno’s cape, look at you-”

“I hate you, I’m going back to sleep-” Tommy immediately says back, turning around, Wilbur jumping out of his seat from the table and laughing. 

“Nope, you’ve already woken up! Wake up, child, it’s morning.” Wilbur insists, pulling Tommy back into the kitchen, turning him around, even with the glare Tommy’s sending at him. He pats his palms against the side of Tommy’s face, Tommy scowling and ignoring the way his heart grows warm. He goes to steal Wilbur’s seat. 

Wilbur just sits across from him, seeming chipper. 

“I’m cooking some eggs for breakfast. Want some?” Phil asks, Tommy turning in his seat to find a hand running through his hair, messing it up. He doesn’t bother to fix it. 

Tommy considers it, and his mind strays to last night, with the cake they never got to really finishing. There’s a tug of hesitation that makes his words falter, but he still powers through. 

“What about the cake, from last night?” He asks, and Phil nods, going to go grab a container of plain cake. They never got to the frosting, or the fun bits. It’s just cake. 

“Cake for breakfast.” Wilbur says, and Tommy sticks his tongue out at him. 

“What? I want cake.” He says, and he turns his head to Phil, eyes narrowing, daring for Phil to say otherwise, daring for Phil to say no, to prove to Tommy that he shouldn’t ask for things-

Phil just gives him a slice on a plate, rather than refusing. Tommy blinks at it as Phil goes to get a fork as well. 

“Sure, mate, but I’m also giving you fruit as well.” He says kindly, putting a fork down on the table. Tommy stares at him as Phil goes to cut an apple into slices. 

Tommy did not think that would work. 

“Ooh, give me a peice.” Wilbur grins, fingers nabbing at the end of the slice on Tommy’s plate. Tommy grabs his fork and wacks him on the hand with it. 

“Fuck you, get your own.” Tommy says lightheartedly, his voice wavering just a bit. Everything feels so incredibly perfect and too good to be true, and he feels like he should be waiting for the ball to drop, for the rug to be pulled out from under him. 

But it still stays, as Phil puts down apple slices onto the table, and Techno stumbles into the kitchen with a yawn, mumbling out a good morning and collapsing into a chair beside Wilbur. 

Tommy just stabs his slice of cake and tries to push down the disbelief. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanna get back into updating daily but I have school breathing down my neck, I'm going to end up fighting the rain outside and shanking Zeus out of frustration at this point
> 
> Anyway, hope you liked the chapter, I am a fool for comfort and I think we all know it at this point
> 
> Thank you for reading


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ngl I'm not feeling so good, so, y'know, comfort is the remedy for the soul
> 
> Enjoy

The cake tastes plain, and really, he shouldn't expect any different, since there's no frosting or anything. It's slightly sweet, though, and Tommy mentally tells himself it's better than anything Dream's ever brought him. 

Wilbur nibbles at an apple slice in front of him, Tommy remembering to grab one as well, holding it in his palm. 

Somehow, cut apples slices shouldn't feel like they hold so much meaning, because Tommy's eaten an apple regularly plenty of times, cutting it doesn't make it special.

But his heart still grows warm as he closes his hand around the slice, and he stabs into his cake like it's personally offended him. Wilbur raises his eyebrows at Tommy, amused.

Technoblade is still sitting in his chair beside Wilbur, his face hidden in his arms, head against the table. Tommy almost wonders if he's fallen asleep again, right there. 

Wilbur jabs a hand into Techno's side, grinning like a little shit, and Techno jolts up, hands slamming against the table. 

"I'm up." Techno mumbles, squinting as he turns his head to Wilbur, who snickers. "Ow."

"What? I was just giving a good morning nudge." Wilbur shrugs, nonchalant. Techno kicks him under the table. " _ Ow,  _ Phil-!"

"Kick him back." Phil responds easily, his tone just saying 'too early for me to deal with that'. There's the sound of a scuffle of feet kicking each other. 

Tommy swings his own legs under the table, but not to hit anyone, just absentmindedly, as he picks at the cake on his plate, watching as Techno and Wilbur turn in their chair, Wilbur grabbing at Techno's arm to get a better hit in, the two of them barely holding back grins. 

Tommy wonders when  _ he  _ became the most well behaved in this house. 

He takes another mouthful of cake. The world really has turned upside down. 

Eventually, Wilbur and Techno stop, Techno seeming to win by pinning Wilbur's ankle to the chair leg, and Wilbur wacks a hand against his shoulder, scoffing. 

Phil puts plates of food down, and they fully stop fighting then, going to eat. Phil sits beside Tommy, a wing stretching out behind him, resting onto Tommy's back. 

They eat in comfortable silence, Tommy's eyes flicking to each one of their faces, to their plates. Phil raises his eyebrows when he makes eye contact, and Tommy just gives a frown in response, trying to look as displeased as possible. 

Phil just smiles. 

After a bit, Tommy's finished his cake, and is chewing on an apple slice as Techno finishes his plate quickly, getting up from his seat with a sigh.

"Any morning chores?" Phil asks, Techno huffing.

"Just need to check up on the usual, nothing big." He responds, putting his plate in the sink, going out of the kitchen to put on shoes. 

"Where are you going?" Tommy asks, and he's not sure if Techno hears him at first, getting a pause, but Techno responds, the sound of something shuffling in the next room.

"Just outside. Gonna check the perimeter, check on some supplies," He walks back into the kitchen, now with the sound of boots against the floor. "Nothing big." 

Tommy nods, taking a bite of an apple as Techno makes his way around the table to Tommy, and Tommy assumes it's for his cape, the red cloth around Tommy's shoulders, because he must need his cape to go outside, right? 

His hand is already halfway up to tug the fabric off, but he's thrown off by Techno leaning down instead, pressing his forehead against Tommy's, staying there for a moment. 

"Your hair is getting long." Techno observes, before pulling back and doing the same to Phil, pressing his forehead against Phil's with closed eyes. 

Tommy can only blink in confusion as Techno repeats it to Wilbur, and then he's off, the sound of the front door opening. "Bye." He calls out.

"Bye!" Wilbur chimes. 

"Stay safe." Phil says. 

"Bye." Tommy breathes out under his breath, just before the door closes. 

Wilbur finishes his plate then, getting up to put it in the sink, and Tommy raises a hand to his forehead, holding the back of his hand to it. 

That was weird. 

Too early to think about it, he decides, and he finishes the apple in his hand, huffing.

Wilbur moves off to the main room, and Phil goes to wash his plate, so Tommy gets up from his seat, going to follow Wilbur. 

He finds him sitting down on the rug, in front of the fireplace, which gives off warm light. Wilbur sits criss cross on the floor, grinning as he sees Tommy, holding his arms out. 

"Quick, gimme a hug." He asks, Tommy only narrowing his eyes.

"Why."

"Because I miss you." Wilbur frowns, Tommy resisting the urge to laugh.

"I  _ live _ with you." He says, and  _ god _ , that sentence holds too much weight, he's not thinking about that. He goes to walk towards Wilbur instead.

"Irrelevant." Wilbur responds, Tommy sitting down with him, letting Wilbur grab onto him. 

Wilbur pulls Tommy close, Tommy making a face when he practically gets squished into Will's shirt with arms around him, and he's not going to complain about it, because getting a hug from Wilbur, a proper one, is something he's wanted for so long. 

However, he will continue to look grumpy. He has a reputation to uphold. 

He swings his knees over Wilburs leg, huffing as he leans his shoulder into Wilbur's chest, Wilbur resting his chin onto Tommy's head with a hum. 

It's nice. Tommy will admit, it's nice. Wilbur's lost that cold and pale look to him, replaced with something vibrant, warm. Even with the tired look on his face, it's a welcome change, and Tommy would give anything for Wilbur to stay like this. Alive, safe. 

He can see Phil out of the corner of his eye, leaning on the doorframe of the kitchen, looking emotional, and part of him wants to tell everyone to fuck off, embarrassment creeping up his throat. Tommy quickly shoves it down in favor of just for once, finally, having some sort of comfort. Something safe.

Sure, maybe he's getting held like a little kid who's clingy as fuck, but really, no one is allowed to judge him, because if they do, he'll stab them. 

"You know," Wilbur starts, voice quiet, bringing Tommy out of his thoughts. "I haven't held you like this since you were small." 

Tommy feels his throat grow tight, and he swallows down a heavy feeling in his chest, choosing to not grace Will with an answer. 

Wilbur just grins over his head, humming some random tune that Tommy doesn't know. 

"Oh!" Wilbur snaps his fingers, sitting up straight, Tommy raising his head. "My journal! Phil, can you-"

"I got it." Phil sighs, smiling as he goes to walk up the stairs, steps creaking as he goes. 

Tommy watches him leave with curious eyes, and Wilbur does the same, the two of them staring at the stairs until Phil comes back, a small journal in his hands. He pauses on the steps when he realizes eyes are on him, and Wilbur snickers.

"Why are you both-" Phil goes to ask, cutting himself off with a snort, going down the rest of the stairs.

"Journal, Phil." Wilbur insists, and he unwraps an arm from Tommy to hold his hand out, Phil giving the journal over, with a pencil as well, before retreating back into the kitchen with a fond smile.

"What's that?" Tommy asks, leaning his head into Wilbur's shoulder, watching as Wilbur flips through the pages of what looks to be a mostly blank journal, the first few pages full of scribbled writing. 

"I write down memories here." Wilbur explains, Tommy watching as he finds an empty spot to continue off of, and he writes down a quick few sentences, Tommy reading them and realizing it's of his first day of exile.

_ 'Dream leading me and Tommy away from l'manburg. Dream ordering us to put our stuff in a hole, then blowing it all up. Leaving us with nothing except a small dirt shack in the middle of the rain _ .'

Tommy bites the inside of his cheek at the reminder of first losing his stuff, and all the times after that, and he fiddles with the emerald bracelet around his wrist, telling himself he's keeping this. 

"Your memories?" Tommy mumbles, eyes scanning on what little sentences there are on the rest of the paper. Wilbur hums in confirmation. "Can I see them?"

Wilbur puts the pencil to the side, giving the book to Tommy's hands, and Tommy skims through the words, flipping the pages with a thumb. There's small things, like a detail over Techno liking soft material, then there's bigger, more painful topics, Wilbur writing something about  _ 'a cold ravine' _ .

Tommy swallows down a bad taste in his mouth, and he gets through the pages rather rather quickly, not even sure what he's looking for, until he finds it.

Right on the first page, the very first thing written down, in quick, messy writing, like it was rushed. 

_ 'Tommy, _ ' it reads.  _ 'My little brother. _ '

That's the first thing he wanted to make sure he remembered, Tommy realizes.

There's tears welling up in his eyes before Tommy even knows it, and he sets his jaw to try and keep his lip from shaking. He blinks quickly, snapping the book closed and letting it fall out of his hands, quietly landing onto the rug. 

He leans into Wilbur, shoving his face into fabric, wrapping his arms around Wilbur's torso. Wilbur laughs gently, hugging Tommy back, and Tommy can practically feel the smile on his dumb face.

Wilbur's shirt gets wet with tears, and he doesn't seem to mind, only humming again, a tune Tommy doesn't recognize. 

"My, my back hurts." Tommy says after a moment, as if the ache in his shoulderblades will be a perfectly good excuse as to why he's crying his eyes out. "It's so annoying." He mumbles, pretending his words don't follow with a sniffle.

"Sounds annoying." Wilbur responds, rubbing a hand into Tommy's back. "Probably from sleeping on the floor?"

"Techno already said that." Tommy mutters, like it makes the response invalid.

"Hm." Wilbur thinks, Tommy closing his eyes. He is a bit upset over the way his back hurts, it's actually quite irritating if he focuses on it, and while Wilbur's hand helps, it's still annoying. "Has your back hurt before? Since you know, before you slept in a...tent." Wilbur's words sound almost bitter.

Tommy tries to think of general back pain from before, but the only thing he can really remember vividly from falling asleep in that tent is waking up occasionally to cold water soaking into his clothes, the faint remains of a good dream in his head fading away as he wakes up to find something drastically different. 

Bitterness unfurls in his heart, and Tommy tells himself that's over. No more waking up and feeling reality slam into him like a brick. No more of the heartbreaking feeling of being  _ alone _ .

He can't stand it. 

Now that he's finally having something so much better, he will fight tooth and fucking nail to never lose it again. 

He holds onto Wilbur a little tighter, shrugging. 

"I dunno. My bed was pretty shit." He thinks of the sorry excuse for a place to sleep, the way some nights had been just too cold, and he purges the thought out of his head. Not again, he tells himself. Never again.

"That would probably be bad for your spine." Wilbur says lightheartedly, and Tommy huffs. 

"Probably." He responds, scoffing, sinking even more into Wilbur's arms, and he keeps his eyes closed, content. 

Wilbur hums, a hand rubbing against Tommy's back. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this chap on my phone! So if you see a typo, that's why. 
> 
> Thank you for reading


	9. Chapter 9

Tommy falls asleep. 

He’s comfortable, alright? With Wilbur rubbing small circles into his back and the warmth of the house, it’s peaceful, and it’s ridiculously easy for him to drift off, head tucked into Wilbur’s neck. 

It’s such a difference from exile. Exile, it was always quiet, save for when Dream visited. It was always calm, nothing bothering him except the stray mobs he had to fight off. But even then, those weren’t often. 

He just remembers the absolute loneliness of it all. The way his heart ached and ached, and how sometimes he would find himself holding a hand to his cheek, wishing it wasn’t his own. Sometimes Wilbur’s presence helped, sometimes it pissed him off, the way he just wasn’t _him._

It was just a ghost, who hung around Tommy while Tommy stayed pathetically lonely in his little exile tent. A naive, over-positive ghost, who never quite knew much, and never liked talking about anything too painful. A ghost who drifted off and never stayed too long. 

A ghost of his older brother, who was always so _cold_. 

Wilbur’s not cold now. He’s alive, warm, blood flowing through his veins, a life in his heart. He doesn’t hold a chill to him when Tommy holds onto him, and his voice is vibrant and solid. 

Wilbur and Phil’s voices float over his head as Tommy drifts in and out of unconsciousness, half asleep, torn between keeping his eyes open, and just closing them so he can get a few extra minutes in. 

He feels Wilbur laugh quietly against him, a hand pushing his hair back, and Tommy sighs, thoughts wandering in his head. He wonders about what Tubbo is up to, what Dream is doing. 

Maybe l’manburg is thriving right now, Tubbo making strides as a president. Maybe Dream has just forgotten about Tommy as a whole. (And that thought hurts more than Tommy wants it to.) 

Maybe, Tommy shouldn’t worry, and should try falling asleep, letting his eyes stay shut, limbs heavy as everything slowly fades out. 

Then it all snaps right back in with the sounds of sharp knocks, the front door opening, a small gust of cold air coming in, sending goosebumps across his skin as he opens his eyes. 

He lifts his head up to see Techno come in, the door closing just a little too loudly, and Tommy can’t stop the way his heart leaps into his throat, the feeling of guilt swallowing him as Techno turns his attention to him, a frown on his face, slight snow on his clothes. 

Tommy goes over the morning in his head, tries to think of something he might’ve done to piss anyone off, and he remembers the cape over his shoulders, _Techno’s_ cape-

“We have company.” Technoblade announces, sounding on edge, and it throws Tommy off, because, wait, is that why he’s mad, or is it because of Tommy? Is it because of the cape? Is he- 

Wilbur squeezes his arms around Tommy, making his mind come to a halt as Phil gets to his feet, him and Techno talking in hushed tones. 

“How far?” Phil asks, one of his wings folding out in front of him and Techno, like it’ll stop the way Tommy’s staring at them with wide eyes, ears straining to know what he did wrong. 

“Not far enough.” Techno answers, sounding annoyed, and Tommy grimaces, because he can’t quite catch their words, but he can hear their tone of voice, and he doesn’t know if it’s his fault, he doesn’t know how to make it better. He doesn’t even know what he did, he’s not sure if Phil’s about to turn around and yell, or if Techno’s going to yank his cape back and never let Tommy have his hands on it ever again-

“Breathe.” Wilbur reminds, his hand rubbing along Tommy’s shoulder, and Tommy blinks, finding that he’s lost a few seconds in his thoughts, and that his eyes have gotten teary. 

“Wilbur.” Phil says, turning around, his wings folding back behind him. “Take Tommy upstairs, stay there until the coast is clear.” Technoblade walks past them both to rummage in the chests to the side, pulling out an axe. 

Wilbur nods, getting to his feet and pulling Tommy up with him, Tommy turning his head from Phil to Techno, to Wilbur, back to Phil again, stumbling as he gets pushed to the stairs. “Wait, wh-what, what’s happening?” 

“Nothing.” Phil reassures, giving a smile as Wilbur pulls him up the steps, and Tommy tugs at his hand, looking to Techno, trying to shove down the feeling of wanting to curl up into a ball. 

“What’s going on?” 

“We just have a visitor.” Technoblade says, Phil stepping over to the window, looking out with a stony expression. 

“A visitor-” Tommy repeats, and Wilbur tugs at his hand. 

“Come on, Tommy.” Wilbur says softly, his head turning upstairs for a moment, before turning back to Tommy with an apprehensive look. 

“No, hold on.” Tommy refuses, holding onto the railing as he leans over to Technoblade. “Who’s here?” 

“I see him.” Phil warns, tense. He turns to Tommy, nodding sternly. “Tommy, go upstairs with Wilbur.” 

“Who’s _here_?” Tommy demands, Wilbur glancing at Phil with an unsure look, also curious, but mostly worried, from how Techno is holding his axe, going to stand by the door as if it’ll get kicked in at any moment. 

“Dream.” Techno answers, and he looks at Tommy, his eyes almost burning as Tommy feels like he’s been dunked into ice cold water, his breath getting ripped from his lungs. “Go.”

“Tommy, come on, come on, now-” Wilbur whispers, Tommy nodding and letting himself get pulled up the stairs, the two of them retreating upstairs as Phil and Techno glance at each other, staying beside the front door. 

Tommy straightens his spine as a sharp jolt of pain comes from his back, and he brushes it off because of how fast his mind is racing, and how he’s absolutely panicking.

Dream’s here. 

_Dream’s here-_

Oh god, he’s here for Tommy. He’s here to take him back, or he’s here because he’s angry, and either way, Tommy feels like he needs to hide, and he holds onto Wilbur’s hand with a death-grip, blinking back tears. 

“Over here, come on.” Wilbur says quietly, pulling them both into Phil’s room, holding Tommy to his chest when they’re inside, closing the door behind him with a click of the door. “It’s alright, we’re okay.” Wilbur reassures, tugging Tommy over to sit down on the bed nearby, but Tommy pulls back, because no, it’s not okay, they’re not safe-

“We need to hide, he’s going- Wilbur, he’s here for me, he’s going to-” Tommy whispers out, voice wavering as he holds onto Wilbur’s arms, taking in gasps of air between his words. 

“Tommy, we’re safe.” Wilbur reassures, holding Tommy’s face in his hands, trying to be soothing, but it hardly has an effect as Tommy continues to take in sharp breaths. 

“He’s here for me, he’s going to _find_ us-”

There’s so many things that could go wrong, and Tommy’s mind is making every terrible situation, Phil and Technoblade not being able to hold Dream back, Wilbur getting killed again, Tommy getting found-

“No, no.” Wilbur raises his head, looking around. He lets go of Tommy, pushing him and forcing him to sit down on the mattress, then going over to the door, locking it. 

Tommy gets up from the bed, going over to the window, closing the blinds, the room going dim. He looks to the clean desk tucked away in the corner, and he goes to grab at the edges, pulling it off the ground. “Wilbur, help me, we- move this in front of the door.”

Wilbur hesitates, then goes to help, the two of them lifting it off the ground and pushing it in front of the door, barricading it from any intruders. 

The room is dim, the door is blocked, and Tommy’s heart still pounds with fear, another jolt of pain stabbing him in the back, but it barely registers as he looks around the room, trying to find ways to hide. 

Wilbur wraps an arm around his shoulders, holding a hand to his face. “Tommy, it’s alright, we’re fine.” Even with his words, though, Tommy can see the way Wilbur’s hand just barely shakes, and he doesn’t feel safe, he doesn’t feel like this is _enough_. 

He feels like he’s holding a paper thin shield, something that will break apart and do him no good, and he turns his head to the bed, tugging Wilbur over to it, dropping to the ground. 

“Tommy-” Wilbur says, trying to pull at Tommy’s arm as the teen looks under the bed, seeing nothing but dim shadow, and space for him to crawl into. “ _Tommy_.” 

Tommy turns his head to Wilbur, eyes full of tears, threatening to pour over, and Wilbur sees the way his shoulders shake, his hands trembling as they twist the fabric of Techno’s cape over his shoulders. 

“We-we need to hide.” Tommy whispers under his breath, eyes glancing to the door like Dream might be listening in. “We- Wilbur, please. We gotta hide.” 

Wilbur can only look at Tommy with an ache in his heart, and also a fire in his chest. Tommy looks absolutely terrified, scared of something happening to him, to Wilbur. He knows logically there’s no chance in hell that Phil or Techno would ever let Dream up here without losing a life, but he also knows that logic means nothing when fear is so present. He wants to go outside and strangle that green bastard with his own two hands, for making Tommy like this, so scared and hesitant, wanting to do everything possible to make sure he won’t be found.

Instead of doing that, he nods, and pulls Tommy with him to crawl under, the two of them laying against the wood floor, hiding in the dimness of the room, underneath the bed. 

Wilbur keeps an arm around Tommy, who’s shaking like a leaf, trying to curl up against Wilbur, trying to disappear into his shirt. 

“We’re alright.” Wilbur whispers, Tommy closing his eyes. “It’s okay.” 

“He’s going to find us.” Tommy whispers back. 

“Phil and Techno would kill him before he steps foot in this house. We’re okay.”

“Sh.” He responds, and Wilbur keeps his mouth shut, instead just holding Tommy close, and trying to be as comforting as possible. 

Tommy ignores the way there’s a flash of pain on his back, and instead just squeezes his eyes shut, trying to hold onto Wilbur. 

\---

Phil struggles to not panic as he and Techno stay standing by the door, curtains drawn shut so there’s no way of looking inside, but also no way of looking outside, no way of predicting when exactly Dream will get here. There’s a crossbow in Phil’s hand, loaded and shining with enchantment, and he hopes that he won’t have to use it. 

Technoblade’s axe gleams as Techno holds it tightly, and he talks quietly as him and Phil stay on opposite sides of the door. 

“I saw him far off while doing a perimeter check. He was going straight for us, he somehow knew right where we were.”

“Did he see you?” Phil asks quietly, and the house is silent against his words, almost eerie. Even the flames of the fire have simmered down, as if they recognize the situation at hand. 

“I don’t think so. I ran back as soon as I spotted him.” Techno shrugs, and Phil nods, glancing upstairs to where Wilbur and Tommy are. Dream shouldn’t know anything of Wilbur’s resurrection, with it being so recent, and Wilbur having stayed home, but he knows Dream will be stubborn over Tommy. 

There’s a knock, and Phil flinches, eyes going to the doorknob, Techno holding up a hand. 

They wait, tense silence sitting in the air, before there’s another two knocks, unfamiliar. Phil nods. 

Technoblade reaches for the doorknob, opening the door just a bit, keeping the axe in his hand just out of sight as the cold air from outside comes into the house. 

“Technoblade.” Dream greets, and Phil presses himself against the wall, biting the inside of his cheek as something burns in his chest. 

“Dream.” Techno answers, nailing the bored voice perfectly, like he couldn’t be bothered. “You are here, at my house, at an unusually early time in the morning, when I could be doing something productive.” 

“Techno.” 

“That’s my name.” 

There’s a scoff, and Phil grins, Techno glancing at him, raising his eyebrows. 

“Good morning.” Dream says, sounding more friendly than when he started off, and Techno just huffs. 

“Why’re you here?” Technoblade asks, like he really wants to Dream to just go already, making it painfully obvious in his tone. 

“You know why I’m here.” 

“Hmm. I don’t?” Techno shrugs, going to close the door. “Here to be annoying probably, not interested, though, goodbye-”

There’s a thump, and Phil can see a hand pushing against the door, keeping it open. 

“ _Technoblade_.” Dream says, a warning tone in his voice, and the door budges just the smallest bit as more force gets pushed against it. “I’m here for Tommy.”

“Who?” Techno deadpans.

“Tommy.”

“Never heard of him.” 

“Yes, you-” Dream sighs, Techno yawning. “Let me in? It’s cold out here, we can talk-” 

Phil steps in then, Techno opening the door all the way and stepping to the side as Phil comes into the doorway with a raised crossbow, pointed right into the annoying smiley mask. 

“Then stay cold, mate. Get off our porch.” 

Dream stays still as an arrow is hovering dangerously close to his face, and takes a small step back, Phil following. 

“Phil.” He says simply, and Techno sighs. 

“Yes, he also has a name- Dream, do you have a reason to be here, or are you actually just here to annoy me in my retirement?” Techno asks, sounding annoyed. 

Dream sputters, taking another step back as Phil pokes him in the mask with the crossbow. “I’m here for _Tommy_.” He grits out. 

“Who?” Phil asks, glancing at Techno, who just shrugs with a ‘i dunno’ noise. 

“Oh, come on.” Dream says quietly, sighing as he’s pushed back further, Phil still pointing the crossbow. “Stop it. You know who I’m talking about.” 

“Never heard of him.” Techno shrugs, Phil nodding very seriously. 

“Get off our property.” Phil says, then lowers his crossbow and pushes Dream, watching as he tips over the railing with a yell, falling off the porch into the snow below. 

Technoblade snorts, Phil and him looking over the railing as Dream pushes himself out of the snow, looking up with a glare through his mask. 

“I know you have him!” 

“I know that I’ll shoot you if you don’t get off my lawn.” Phil responds, pointing the crossbow again, Techno leaning his elbows onto the railing with his axe still in hand. 

“You’re hiding him, aren’t you?” Dream asks, Phil and Techno glancing at each other. “You have him.” 

“I still have no clue who you’re even talking about.” Techno mutters, frowning down at Dream, who takes several steps back as Phil points his crossbow warningly. 

“Yes, you do-!” Dream lets out a frustrated sound. “He’s hiding away in the house right now, isn’t he?”

“There’s literally no one in our house, mate.” Phil says, as if Dream is being crazy. “And I don’t know a Tony.”

“Tommy!” Dream corrects, Techno waving a hand, turning his head to Phil. 

“Don’t humor him, Phil, I think the cold has gotten to his head.” Techno says, Dream huffing from below them. 

“Stop it. I know you have him, I know he’s here. Either hand him over now, or I’ll just take him by force-” Dream falls back as an arrow goes flying, landing into the snow at his feet. 

Dream scoots back, staring at the arrow, then looking up to Phil, who casually loads it again. “I’m not in the mood to deal with pranks this early, mate. Go.” 

Dream just stares at them both, Techno waving his axe. “Byeee.” Techno says, Dream looking to Phil, who raises his crossbow again. 

“You know I’ll be back.” Dream quietly says, sitting up. “You’re not just getting away with this.”

“You keep annoying us in retirement, Dream, I’ll kill you.” Phil shrugs, sounding unbothered. “You think I won’t?”

Dream just stays quiet, pushing himself to his feet, looking at them both for an uncomfortably long time before responding. 

“You’re both idiots.” 

“Alright, that’s enough. We gave you a warning.” Techno sighs, and he nudges Phil in the arm. “Shoot him.”

Phil fires, and shoots Dream right through the head before he can say anything else.

\---

Tommy’s sense of time seems to warp as him and Wilbur stay hiding under the bed, in the dark. He keeps his eyes closed, his panic slowly calming down into something a little more manageable as Wilbur holds him tight, the two of them silent and still. Wilbur keeps a hand on the back of Tommy’s head, and as tense silence drags on, Tommy finally notices the way there’s been sharp pains on his shoulder blades, stabbing into him. 

“Wilbur?” Tommy asks, very, very quietly, opening his eyes. 

“Yeah?” Wilbur responds, just as quiet, and Tommy remembers the wing tattoo on his back, the bright red feathers, the design, and he hesitates, feeling another hot stab of pain that makes him jolt. 

“I-” Tommy starts, not even sure how to ask about this, but he’s cut off with a knock on the door, and all his panic comes rushing back up, his mind going blank with fear. He goes impossibly still, trying to be as close to Wilbur as he can, as Wilbur raises his head to the door, squinting. 

“Tommy? Wilbur?” He hears Phil’s voice call out, another soft knock. “Coast is clear, we’re good.”

Wilbur sighs, looking down at Tommy, who’s holding onto his shirt with a deathgrip, eyes wide. 

“You sure?” Wilbur asks, loud, and Tommy’s eyes focus on the door that’s barricaded with the desk. 

“ _Very_ sure.” Technoblade answers, and Wilbur smiles, patting a hand onto Tommy’s hair. 

“We’re okay.” Wilbur tells him, Tommy blinking, before nodding. “He’s gone.”

“Are you very very sure?!” Tommy calls out, rolling over under the bed, looking at the door. 

“Yes.” Phil laughs, sounding amused. 

“Very very very sure?!” Wilbur continues, Tommy giving a nervous laugh. 

“Ok, do not, Wilbur, I swear.” Techno answers, Wilbur just snorting. “Can you guys open the door?”

“Give us a sec.” Wilbur calls out, him and Tommy crawling out from under the bed, Tommy standing on shaky legs as Wilbur walks over to the door. Tommy holds onto him from behind, arms wrapped around his middle as Wilbur walks to the desk, pulling it just enough so the door can open, the desk screeching against the floor. 

He opens the door to Phil and Techno standing in the hallway, and Phil comes in first, arm reaching out for Tommy, who lets himself get pulled into a hug as Wilbur leans against the desk. 

Technoblade gives Wilbur a questioning look, noting the dimness of the curtains being closed. 

“We barricaded the door for good measure.” Wilbur shrugs, Tommy taking in a deep breath in Phil’s arms, before pulling back and crashing into Techno. 

He holds on to Techno for a good minute, then also pulls back, and stumbles into the hallway, mumbling something about how he’s going to puke, before running into the bathroom and slamming the door closed behind him. 

“Were you guys okay?” Phil asks quietly, Techno leaning out the door and straining his ears, making a sympathetic face as he hears Tommy throw up past the closed door. 

“He was terrified.” Wilbur answers, voice mumbled. “We hid under the bed, he was acting like Dream was going to find us at any second.” 

Phil frowns, sighing. “We got rid of him for now, but I know he’s not going to stop. Guess it’s just a matter of what he does next. Then we decide on what countermeasure to use.” 

“I’m looking forward to counter-measure E.” Techno says, Phil snickering. 

“Which one is that?” Wilbur asks, not knowing any of these ‘counter-measures’.

“Don’t worry about it.” Techno waves a hand, Wilbur raising his eyebrows, as Techno leans out into the hallway again. “Tommy? You good?”

There’s a moment of silence. 

Then a loud, pained cry, and they all rush down the hall.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haha, wings go brrrr

  
  


The moment Tommy steps away from Technoblade, relief mixed with fear overwhelms him, and he mumbles something about how he’s going to hurl. He stumbles down the hall, ignoring the way his hands shake and how there’s a sharp flare of pain in his back. 

He slams the bathroom door behind him, fumbling with the lock, his hands trembling almost violently as he drops to his knees and loses his breakfast into the toilet. 

Most of him is incredibly relieved at the fact that Dream hadn’t found a way into the house, hadn’t hurt Technoblade or Phil. He feels so, so relieved at the fact that he hadn’t seen Tommy, hadn’t been able to talk to him, confront him over the fact that he betrayed him. 

Part of him feels guilty, like he should’ve stopped hiding and instead gone to meet Dream face to face, like a man, so he can own up to the fact he left Dream behind. Dream is his friend, someone who was there for him throughout exile, when no one else did. Shouldn’t Tommy at least have the courage to talk to him?

At the same time, Dream is not someone to be trusted, and Tommy knows that it would’ve been physically impossible for him to be able to make it out the door without bursting into tears. Out of fear, out of guilt, he doesn’t know, but he knows that he can’t face Dream. 

He’s a friend, but Tommy doesn’t want to be anywhere near him in fear of what’ll happen, and he wonders what kind of friend that makes Dream. 

Tommy coughs, spitting a bitter taste out of his mouth, groaning and leaning onto the sink cabinets next to him. He doesn’t have the energy to think about this. He just wants to curl up next to Wilbur and go back to sleep, the rest of the world and its problems can just go fuck off. 

Reaching his hands up to the sink, Tommy heaves himself onto his feet, ignoring how his legs feel weak, and how he needs to lean heavily onto the counter to stay standing. 

He fumbles to turn the water on, taking handfuls and washing out his mouth, and trying to wash his face as well, hoping that the cold water will help calm him down, and lessen the way his heart is racing. 

There’s a sharp hot pain from behind him, as if a torch has been held to his back, and Tommy screams, standing up straight, turning around to see if someone has somehow stabbed him. 

But there’s no one, the bathroom is empty, and he accidentally leaves the sink running, leaning backwards against the counter, before saying ‘fuck it’ and just sliding down to the floor again. He tugs at the cape around his shoulders, pulling it off and wiping his face against it, trying to dry off the water. 

Knocking comes from the door, Tommy jolting, then gritting his teeth as his back feels too hot, like hot water is getting poured onto him, but no matter how much he grasps at the fabric of his shirt, there’s nothing there. 

“Tommy?” He hears Technoblade from the other side, and the doorknob shifts, staying locked. 

“I’m fine!” Tommy calls out, ignoring the way his voice sounds strained, and instead just trying to tug his shirt off, because something is burning like hell on his back and he wants to know what it  _ is _ . 

“I doubt that.” Techno answers, knocking again. “Open the door?”

“Just- uh, give me a sec-!” Tommy throws Techno’s cape to the side, tugging his shirt off, trying to reach behind him to feel for anything unusual. He finds only warm skin, and he looks up to the sink with a frown, knowing he needs the mirror for this. Before he can do anything, though, there’s another sharp pain, making him lean over. “ _ Motherfucking- _ what the fuck, what the-” 

“Tommy, what’s going on?” He can hear Phil ask, and Tommy blinks at the floor, huffing loudly, before heaving himself onto his feet with some difficulty, having to grasp at the counter and pull himself up. “Tommy?”

“All good!” Tommy says, leaning onto the counter with a sigh, looking at the water still running into the sink, and he sticks his head under the stream of water, really just not caring anymore. 

It’s cold onto his hair, and when he pulls back, water drips onto his shoulders, onto the counter, and he would worry about the fact he’s getting water everywhere, if it weren’t for the fact that his back feels like there’s boiling water getting poured onto him. He swears under his breath again, putting his head back under the water, because honestly, it does feel nice. 

“You don’t sound all good, mate.” He can hear Phil respond, voice worried. The doorknob moves again. “Can you open the door?” 

“Yeah, yeah, just, hold on-” Tommy answers, running a hand through his soaked hair, standing up straight and twisting around to try and look at his back, and he freezes at seeing the wings again, bright red against his skin. “Holy fuck.” He breathes out, tapping his fingers against it, and he’s not sure if it’s just the light in the bathroom, or if he’s seeing right, but they look like they’re  _ glowing _ . 

He doesn’t get much time to dwell on it, because then there’s a sharp pain again, and he swears loudly, huffing and leaning his hip against the counter as he looks at himself in the mirror, hair pushed weirdly to the side, half wet. 

“Tommy, open the door.” Phil tries saying again, and there’s another knock, more rushed and panicked. 

“Okay, fuck it, Techno, can you break the door down?” Wilbur asks, Tommy raising his head from the sink suddenly. 

“No, no, don’t break the fucking-” He takes a step backwards and immediately falls onto the ground with a thump, groaning. “I’ll open it right now.” He calls out, not making a move to sit up, and instead just rolling over onto his side, reaching out to Techno’s cape thrown on the ground and pulling it close to him. God, he wants to sleep. 

“Tommy.” Phil says, and it sounds like he’s kneeling down next to the door, his voice clear. “What’s happening?”

“Nothing, nothing-” Tommy reassures, and he goes dead still as he feels something  _ move _ in his back, under his skin, and he yells, jolting up from the ground, then almost slamming back down as his vision swims. “What the  _ fuck-!? _ ”

“Tommy!?” Phil yells, and he sounds too worried, not even waiting a second before seeming to turn to Techno. “Okay, Technoblade-” Phil goes to say, Tommy waving a hand, shaking his head even though they can’t see. 

“No, no, no, dad, I’m not bleeding out or anything, I am very okay, I’m the pinnacle of health, actually-” He kneels onto the ground, leaning over and holding onto Techno’s cape tightly, shoving his face into it, shoving his face into it with a huff. “Give me a second, though, because I have no fucking clue what the hell is going on.” He mumbles into the fabric. 

He pauses, trying to think of a good way to phrase ‘so I’ve had these wings just sorta chilling on my back like some sick tattoo, no idea where they came from, and I’ve just been ignoring them because I’d really just rather not deal with it, except now I can’t ignore them because they’re hurting really bad, and it’s quite inconvenient. Also I’ve gotten water everywhere because I stuck my head under the sink.’ Yeah, there’s not a lot of good ways to say that. 

There's a snicker from the other side of the door, and Tommy raises his head out from the fabric, confused. 

“Oh, great, Tommy, you’ve killed Phil.” He hears Techno say, Wilbur laughing. 

“I’ve what?” Tommy asks, backtracking on his words, wondering-

Wait- 

Tommy sputters, hitting a hand to his face. “Wait, I meant-”  _ Phil _ , he meant to say- oh great, he’s called Phil dad. The day is going fantastic so far, with the way his face burns with embarrassment. He meant  _ Phil _ . 

“I’m fine.” Phil chokes out, sounding the opposite from fine. “Why don’t you just open the door, okay?”

Tommy breathes in sharply, curing around the fabric in his grasp. “No.” 

“No?”

“You know what, why don’t I just stay in here? I could live here, I got a blanket, I got a water source, seems like a nice place-”

“Are you alright?” Wilbur asks, Tommy snapping his mouth shut. 

“Yes?” Tommy can only respond, sighing heavily and squeezing his eyes shut, leaning over so much that his forehead touches the ground, and he holds Techno’s cape in his hands like a lifeline. “Somewhat.”

“Define ‘somewhat’.” Wilbur says. 

“I’m not a dictionary, Wilbur.” Tommy mutters, grimacing as his back burns again, his shoulders feeling too sore. “Would you guys be mad if I hid something from you?” He goes to say right after, a sudden shift in tone.

He knows logically they wouldn’t, unless he was hiding a betrayal or something. But he’s not hiding anything like that, he’s hiding the fact that there are wings on his skin that burn like hell. Logically, he knows they wouldn't be mad for him not telling them that, right? Right.

Surely. 

They wouldn’t be mad.

“Of course not.” Phil answers, Tommy taking a sharp breath in, trying to not hyperventilate with the way his back stings. “Whatever’s going on, Tommy, it’s alright.”

“I mean, I’d just prefer that you don’t go trying to hide something that’s hurting you. I worry.” Wilbur says breezily, like his words aren’t slamming into Tommy’s heart like a bat. 

“I’m fine.” Tommy mutters, Wilbur humming. “Tech, Technoblade?”

There’s a moment of silence, Tommy holding his breath, shifting when his shoulders start to ache too bad. Is he angry? For a second, Tommy feels like it’s because of the cape in his hands. 

“We’re not mad, Tommy.” Techno says, Tommy letting out a quiet long sigh. “You’re okay.”

“Okay, well-” Tommy hesitates, pressing his lips tightly closed before sighing again, nodding to himself. “Uhm.”

“Are you okay?” Phil asks. “You’re not injured, are you?”

“I don’t think so.” Tommy mumbles, too quiet. “There’s these- I’m- I have wings, on my back, and- It looks like a weird tattoo or something, I-I don’t know where the hell it came from- it’s so weird, and kinda cool, to be honest-” Tommy stammers, his words coming out in a jumbled mess, and he hopes that he doesn’t sound insane, and oh, here’s a new worry, he hopes they’ll  _ believe _ him. 

“My back just fucking hurts.” Tommy breathes out, staying quiet, and he waits for a response, hoping he’s spoken coherently enough for them to understand. He feels tired of the way his back just aches, and he wants to just close his eyes and shut off the world around him, but he needs to know what they’re going to say. 

So he blinks his eyes open instead, staring at the floor, watching as small drops of water come down from his hair, making tiny puddles on the ground. 

It’s quiet, and for a split second, he thinks they might’ve left, letting him deal with it alone.

“Your back hurts.” Phil repeats, like he’s turning something over in his head. 

“Wait,  _ wings _ ?” Wilbur asks.

“Technoblade, break the door.” Phil says quietly, voice tight, and Tommy doesn’t get a second to react as the door gets yanked open, the lock snapping through wood. That’ll be a pain to fix. 

“Uh…” Tommy raises his head, looking up to the three of them hovering by the door. “Hello-  _ motherfuck- _ ” He leans down when his back starts up again, erupting in pain. 

Phil rushes over, falling to the ground with Tommy, pulling him close as Wilbur lingers by the doorway, Techno reaching to turn the water off in the sink. 

“Oh my  _ god _ , Tommy-” Phil says, holding Tommy to his chest, looking over his shoulder to see the bright red on his back, glowing dimly. “Holy fuck- when did you  _ get _ these?” He asks, sounding both overjoyed and worried out of his mind.

“No idea, actually, I only noticed them when I got here-” Tommy rolls his shoulders back, leaning away from Phil. “It’s not that bad, I mean, it hurts like hell, but I think I’ve gotten used to it.” 

Phil just laughs, wrapping an arm over his shoulders, grabbing Tommy’s shirt that’s thrown to the side and using it to try and dry his hair. “Don’t go jinxing it, mate.” He says lightly, turning his head to Techno. “Do we have any potions of weakness?” 

“For what?” Wilbur asks, raising his eyebrows as Techno walks off to check. 

“He doesn’t need to be awake for this.” Phil responds, rubbing against Tommy’s hair. 

Tommy frowns, huffing. His back still aches, but considerably less than before, and he’s not wimp, he isn’t. “Don’t patronize me.” He pushes Phil’s hand away, trying to fix his hair, which has become a mess at this point. “It’s not that bad, you are being dramatic.”

Phil just smiles, shaking his head. “Maybe, but-”

Tommy doesn’t catch the rest of his sentence, because his shoulder blades suddenly go from aching to  _ burning _ , hot white pain traveling down his spine, and he loses a few seconds, blinking his eyes open, his head leaning against Phil’s shoulder as Phil holds him tightly. He gasps for air, and he’s not sure he was screaming or not. 

“-eathe, you gotta breathe, Tommy, it’s alright.” Phil’s saying soothingly, rubbing a hand on his back, and Tommy blinks tears out of his eyes, feeling the pain simmer down marginally. 

“I take it back.” Tommy says, voice scratchy. “It’s bad.”

Techno and Wilbur are standing by the doorway with matching worried faces, Techno holding a glass bottle in his hands. He looks hesitant, eyes glancing to Wilbur, who glances back, the two of them exchanging faces, talking silently. 

“Can you get up?” Phil asks, Tommy giving a vague sound. “Nevermind.” 

A wing wraps around Tommy as he’s picked up off the ground, and he wraps his arms around Phil’s neck, closing his eyes. 

“Can you two gather up some blankets?”

“Is he okay?”

“As okay as he can be.” 

“I, uh, have the potion.”

Tommy digs his hands into the back of Phil’s shirt, feeling himself get placed down onto something soft, and he only holds on tighter as a response. 

“Tommy.” Phil says gently, trying to pry his hands off. Tommy just clings on tighter. “Hey.” 

“I really just want to pass out right now.” Tommy mutters, squinting his eyes open as he gets pushed back, Phil hovering in front of him. 

“In a bit, okay?” 

Tommy closes his eyes again, almost scowling when his shoulders ache like hell, his arms feeling heavy, and there’s a hand pushing his hair out of his face, his head tilting back just the slightest bit. It makes it all a bit better. Just a bit. 

“Tommy.” 

“What?” He snaps, opening his eyes again, a bottle held out in front of him. He groans in slight annoyance. 

“You don’t have to drink the whole thing, just a sip at least.” Phil speaks quietly, like someone might listen in, and Tommy holds a hand out, grabbing for the bottle. Phil’s mostly holding it for him when he takes a drink, but he doesn’t focus on that, instead sticks his tongue out and grimaces at the weird taste in his mouth. 

“That tastes so weird.” He leans forward, head bumping into Phil’s shoulder, and he tries to grab at him, so he can finally curl up into a ball and pass the hell out, but Phil doesn’t quite hold him back the way he wants, seeming to be busy with something. 

“Want water?” Phil asks, Tommy shaking his head. There’s a quiet thump on the ground, the shuffling of blankets, and Tommy hits a hand at Phil, huffing. 

“Can I hold him?” Someone asks, and Tommy doesn’t know who, feeling like the world is slipping away, everything dulling into a quiet unconsciousness. 

“Just be careful with his back.” He hears Phil say next to him, and hands lift him off the ground again, Tommy wrapping his arms around someone’s neck. 

“I got it.” He hears above his head. 

“Wilbur, come help me.” Tommy hears Phil say, and he strains his ears to try and figure out what’s going on, but he’s already half-asleep, and there’s a hand rubbing circles into his hair. He gives up on figuring anything out, and he drifts off into sleep.

\---

When he finally wakes up, the first thing he notices is how  _ dry _ his throat is, and how whatever he’s laying on is solid and warm. 

He doesn’t open his eyes right away, instead slowly trying to figure out what’s going on, and he tries to nudge a weight off his back, which feels weirdly numb. 

It doesn’t budge, and he moves his head to the side, blinking his eyes open, trying to get his bearings. He feels exhausted, even though he’s sure he’s slept for long enough, and his limbs feel too heavy. 

His vision swims for a moment before focusing, and he blinks again, staring at one of the blankets that’s laid out across the floor, a single bright red feather laying on it, out of place, a grand contrast of the dark color of the fabric. 

Tommy can’t help but stare at it for a good minute, his mind lagging as it tries to catch up, and the only thing he’s really sure of is that the pain in his back is finally gone, replaced with a slight soreness. But not an ache, just pleasantly sore, like a telling sign that it’s finally over. 

He tries to reach a hand out to the feather that’s on the ground, and his hand falls into the blanket with a thump. Tommy curls it into a fist and takes a deep breath in before raising his arm again, more energy behind it, and he’s able to grab at the feather with the tips of his fingers, just barely. 

Holding it in his hand, he closes his palm around it, humming. There’s a slight gold tinge on the end of it, and he stares at it for a moment more, before letting it fall back onto the ground. 

Resting his hand beside him, he goes to lift his head, trying to nudge off the weight on his back again, not succeeding. He sees Phil, Tommy apparently using him as a pillow, and Tommy just makes a face, looking around rather than going to wake Phil up. 

They’re on the ground, rather than bed, blankets layered on the ground so it won’t be so bad, and Tommy supposes they must be effective, except he wouldn’t really know, since he’s using Phil as a cushion more than the blankets. 

He turns his head behind him to look around some more, and he pauses at seeing bright red on his back, and he realizes what was that weight resting on him. 

  
Tommy blinks, staring at bright red wings connected to  _ his _ back, and then he promptly screams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't got a clue if this chapter is good or not because I've been working on it for the past two hours and my attention span has gone OUT the window, so do I remember writing half of this? NOPE. Will I proof read it? Also no, I will take a nap instead
> 
> Also I shall take this moment to say something important
> 
> tommywingit
> 
> yes, yes, thank you and goodnight
> 
> *edit* YOU GUYS ARE GONNA MAKE ME CRY ITS NOT TH A T GOOD SHUT UP /POS


	11. Chapter 11

The only thing that comes out of Tommy’s mouth is a hoarse squeak, his throat too dry as he coughs. He has no clue when’s the last time he had water, he has no idea what time it even is, but it’s hardly a concern at the moment with the way there’s literal wings attached to his  _ back _ . 

It’s jarring, and it’s even more panic inducing when he realises they actually move, flapping out without control, nearly whacking himself in the head as he tries to push himself off the ground, wanting to sit up and grab them so they’ll stop  _ moving _ . 

Except he’s reminded again of just how absolutely exhausted he feels, his limbs moving like they’re underwater, too heavy, too tired. He can’t move like he wants to and he nearly falls face first into the floor, right into the pile of blankets beside him. 

Hands catch him before he does, and a strangled noise comes from his throat, eyes wide as he gets pulled towards Phil, the wings behind his back still moving wildly. Phil holds onto him by the shoulders, keeping him upright, and he might be saying something, Tommy’s not sure, his mind is going too fast and he feels too thrown off, red feathers smacking him in the side of the head as he tries to figure out what the hell is going on, wanting to both try screaming again and pass back out at the same time. 

Phil grabs him by the face, forcing him to look up, and it’s like his words finally process, clicking into Tommy’s head as he breathes too fast. 

“-calm down, breathe, Tommy-”

“Wh-” Tommy tries to respond, and it comes out dry again, Tommy swallowing and wishing he had a glass of water. He wishes he knew what’s going on, he wishes that he could fucking control these  _ stupid- _

He almost gets hit in the face with his own wings again, and he makes a frustrated noise, only making it worse, before he gives up on getting answers entirely, and he just decides to fall completely limp, slipping out of Phil’s hands and face planting into his shirt. 

His wings finally calm down, falling flat, and Tommy decides that he just will never move again. Problem solved. 

Phil laughs lightly, Tommy hearing him huff as he wraps his arms around Tommy, a hand curling at the back of his head. “Alright, that works.” He says, sounding amused. “You alright?”

Tommy makes a vague noise into the fabric of his shirt. 

“Descriptive, mate.” Phil hums, pulling Tommy so he sits up, shoulder leaning against Phil, sitting sideways to him. “I know. Long night.” He murmurs in a almost understanding tone, Tommy pausing. 

“Night?” Tommy whispers, just under his breath. It’s morning. Or it was, when he was awake. 

“It’s about…” Phil raises his head towards the window, the curtains half shut, the cold night sky visible through the glass. “Midnight, I’d say?”

“What.” Tommy whispers out again, making an incredulous face, because he was asleep for how long? A good ten hours, at least. And whatever happened during that, it ended up with these things on his back, bright red wings, their weight becoming ever so present as Tommy actually starts to wake up and be a little more aware. 

He looks around them, head turning to the right and looking down, seeing the blankets thrown in piles around them, and,  _ geez _ , are these all the blankets they have in the house? Tommy looks around a bit more, and he even sees Technoblade’s cape and one of Wilbur’s shirts thrown on top of the layers underneath him. 

It’s not bad, he’ll say, he almost wants to flop back down, curl up, and just sink into the cloth, pass out once again, but he really wants some water first at least. If he’s actually been asleep since morning, he has not had a proper drink in a long while. 

Phil watches him look around with a small smile on his face, his expression too fond for Tommy to handle, so he instead just turns his attention to the things on his back. Grabbing a hand at his wings, he gets a handful of actual, real red feathers, fading into gold at the ends, and he almost feels like panicking again, shoving it down and instead experimenting with trying to actually control them. 

It’s so weird, and he feels like he has to be having some sort of dream, maybe he’s drugged, because there’s literal wings on his back, bright red and fluffy, and they just, just-

They look nice. 

He feels like it’s terribly out of place. 

Phil snickers at the way Tommy stares behind him, dumbfounded, and hugs him close, before turning his head to the open door, showing the dim hallway outside. 

“Wilbur! Techno!” He calls, grinning wide, and Tommy raises his head to Phil, eyes wide. “Tommy’s up!” 

For a second, there’s a rise of fear in the middle of his chest, wondering if they’ll react badly, if they’ll see these colorful, nice-looking feathers on Tommy’s back and frown at the way they don’t belong. The stray thoughts are thrown away completely though as Tommy hears the sound of two people falling up the stairs. Twice. 

Phil barely holds back a snort, wincing as he hears one of them tumble, harsh whispers barely being heard down the hall, getting louder as they finally get to the door, Wilbur slamming into the ground by the doorway, Techno skidding to a stop and having to jump over him so he won’t trample Wilbur. 

“Oh, fucking hell, I think I bruised my shin on one of the steps-” Wilbur rolls over and sits up, groaning. 

“I said to not  _ run- _ ” Technoblade hisses, almost limping on his right foot, leaning against the doorway as he waits for Wilbur to get up and out of the way.

“You ran too!” Wilbur shoots back, huffing and turning his back, getting up for no more than three seconds before flopping down onto the blankets beside Tommy. “Uhg, now I’m tired.” He says, words muffled into the cloth. 

“Hey, bitch.” Tommy croaks out as a greeting, Technoblade following Wilbur, but standing to the side, crossing his arms as he looks down at the back of Wilbur’s head. 

“Good morning.” Technoblade greets, Tommy narrowing his eyes up at him, lips pressed thinly together like he’s about to swear, but his face just shifts into a tired smile instead, and Technoblade raises his eyebrows in slight surprise. “Even though it’s not morning.”

“Tommy!” Wilbur chimes, raising his head, pushing himself onto his knees. “How are you, how are you feeling?” He asks, holding the back of his hand to Tommy’s forehead. Tommy blinks in confusion for a moment, then whacks Wilbur’s hand away, leaning into Phil.

“I feel like shit.”

“That’s understandable.” Techno deadpans, Wilbur clicking his tongue. He leans to the left, eyes curiously looking to behind Tommy’s back, and Tommy’s glad that he’s somewhat figured out how to hold his wings, because he can sorta fold them back away from Wilbur’s view. 

Wilbur moves his eyes to Tommy’s, to his wings, then back to Tommy, grinning and giving a barely there nod as if he’s silently asking for Tommy’s opinion on the unfamiliar weight on his back. 

Tommy shifts his gaze away, eyes falling anywhere that isn’t the three people in the room. “What were you guys doing?” He asks, dodging Wilbur’s unspoken question. 

Wilbur doesn’t seem disappointed, though, sitting back and raising his head to Technoblade. “Cooking potatoes.” 

Phil laughs. 

“Potatoes.” Tommy repeats, and honestly, he kinda wants some right now, he’ll go for anything right now, to be honest. There’s the familiar tug of hunger in his stomach, and with the dryness in his throat, and the exhaustion that still sticks to his limbs, Tommy would kill for a meal right now. “At midnight.” He says, almost judgemental, because potatoes, really? He remembers how often he ate those in Pogtopia, remembers the different ways Technoblade would figure out how to cook them into something different. He knows very well how obsessed the man is with his stupid gardening. 

“Potato soup, actually.” Technoblade shrugs, reaching a hand up to move hair out of his face. His hair is pulled back into a small ponytail, hanging loose with bangs falling out, and Tommy wonders why Phil hasn’t braided it yet. “Do you want some?” 

Tommy nods, too quickly, and he shakes his head instead, even with how much he would like some. He doesn’t want to be too eager, in fear of it somehow jeopardizing his chances of getting food. 

Techno takes his first answer, walking towards the door anyway, not seeming affected by Tommy’s hesitation. “I’ll get a bowl.” 

“Bring up some water, too.” Phil suggests, Tommy internally thanking him. Techno makes a vague sound of affirmation, and Tommy hears steps go down the stairs, much slower this time, but still with a certain rush to them. 

Tommy stares out into the hallway, stretching his arms out in front of him, trying to brush off the feeling of heaviness that’s set into his limbs, a tired mood present in his tone as he sighs quietly. 

Phil brushes Tommy’s hair back with a hum, one of his wings wrapping around Tommy for a moment as he looks to Will, snorting at the way he’s rolled over and flopped back onto the blankets. “You going to fall asleep, Wilbur?”

“I’m tired.” Wilbur complains, rolling over again, his leg hitting Phil’s knee, his arms being stretched out across the blankets, splayed out. 

“ _ I’m _ tired.” Tommy counters, as if this is something he can win, whoever is the most exhausted. 

“I bet you are, from growing these out for the entire day.” Wilbur just responds lightly, the edges of his lips tugging up as he reaches a hand out to the ends of Tommy’s feathers, grazing along the golden tips of it that poke out from under Phil’s wing. “Oh, they’re so cool.”

Tommy flushes, making a face, before nodding. “Well, yeah.” He mutters, but he doesn’t sound so convinced himself. 

Phil folds back his wing to see Tommy’s wings himself, leaning his head onto Tommy’s hair. “They’re very bright red. Very you, I think.” He says, Tommy not being sure how to take that, because he’s not even entirely sure how to feel about the wings on his back entirely. “They’re nice.” Phil murmurs, Tommy humming. 

“Yeah.” He responds eloquently, a lack of any better words. He just leans farther into Phil, closing his eyes for a moment, trying to pretend that there aren’t any wings on his back, bright red and gold feathers that just don’t fit with him as a whole. For a split second, he thinks of being back in the tent in exile, a quiet night in an uncomfortable bed, everything normal again. Or at least what was his normal. 

He opens his eyes to reassure himself that he’s not back there, and he looks at Wilbur, who absent-mindedly flicks his fingers against the ends of his wings, looking content. 

There’s steps coming back upstairs, and Techno comes into the room, holding a glass cup. “I am baaack.” He announces, and Tommy holds out a hand for the cup, Phil taking it instead and then passing it to Tommy. 

He struggles to not chug it all down in one swoop, finishing it rather quickly and appreciating the way the dryness in his throat is better. But as he stares at the empty cup, he could still go for some more, and he holds out the cup to Techno, who leans down and takes it back from him. 

“Guess I’ll get more.” Techno shrugs, walking back out, and Wilbur laughs quietly from where he’s laying down. Moments later, Technoblade comes back with more water, and a warm bowl of soup. 

\---

It’s a late, tense night in l’manburg, most of the citizens having gone to bed late, worries plaguing their mind, questions floating in the air. Most are sleeping a little less soundly than usual, thrown off by the earlier events of today, and by the events that’ll surely follow. 

Tubbo doesn’t sleep, instead he leans over a table with a map, papers detailing supplies they have, a small plan in the making, and he reads over it again and again, mind racing with what could go wrong, what could go right, ways that he could make it have more of a chance of success-

“Tubbo.” There’s a knock at the door, and Tubbo raises his head, realizing he hasn’t been reading anything for the past few minutes, instead just staring off blankly. He turns around to see Ranboo, face worried. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Ranboo walks up to the table, standing by Tubbo, who just moves a map to the side, huffing. “It’s getting pretty late.”

“I know.” Tubbo nods, frowning as he realizes he hasn’t marked down shields on their list of supplies, and he searches for a pencil. They need shields, they’re going to need shields for when they-

“You should sleep.” Ranboo suggests, his hands grabbing onto Tubbo’s arm, pulling him out of his thoughts. 

“I should plan.” 

“You’ve planned enough. You can iron out more details tomorrow, we can-”   
  


“Listen, the sooner we have things in place, the sooner we can go save Tommy.” Tubbo stresses, frowning up at Ranboo, eyes narrowed. “So I just need to have everything ready, and we can go start searching.”

Ranboo makes an unsure face. “It can wait till morning.”

“Tommy’s still waiting.”

“Tommy will be okay.” Ranboo insists, pulling at Tubbo to get him to take a step back. “And you won’t be able to do anything if you’re too tired to stand.”

Tubbo levels him with a stare, his heart tugging at him to keep on going, to keep on pouring over ideas and ways to go against what has to be two of the most powerful people on these lands. 

But he’s right, and Tubbo sighs. Staying up so late will get him nowhere. He’s not making any progress here. 

“You’re right.”

“I am.” Ranboo nods, leading Tubbo over to the door, the two of them turning their back on the plans on the table. “So you should get some rest, go to sleep.” 

Tubbo yawns, rubbing a hand down his face, blinking his eyes as he stares at his feet that carry him out of the room. “I’m just worried.”

“I know.” Ranboo nods, voice quiet. “It’s okay. We’ll get him back.” 

Tubbo nods, sure of it. “He’s probably scared. Even if he’s not showing it, he’s probably not even sure of what to do.” 

\---

“You’re being clingy as fuck.” Tommy mutters, Phil only hugging him tighter with a grin. 

“How can I not be?” He asks, running a hand through the back of Tommy’s hair. “Look at your wings.” 

“I’ve looked at them plenty.” Tommy mumbles, letting out a long sigh, ears catching the quiet snoring of the other two in the room, who have passed out just beside them on the blankets. 

Phil had said that they didn’t rest all for the whole day, kept up in stress. Phil had taken a nap with Tommy when his wings had been fully out, while they had gone off to keep themselves busy making food. 

Tommy feels slightly guilty for making them worry, but he’s also warmed at the thought of them not resting until they knew Tommy was alright, awake to reassure them personally. 

Tommy rests tucked under Phil’s wings, eyelids heavy as him and Phil exchange small conversation, Phil’s voice sounding light and content, like everything has gone right. 

He supposes it makes sense. Now they’re wing bros. 

“You think I’m goin’ be able to fly?” Tommy says quietly, words mumbled from how he feels like he could fall asleep at any moment, but he has a lot of questions. Then again, he doesn't think he’ll remember a lot of these answers, with how sleepy he feels. 

“I’ll teach you.” Phil promises, smiling. “I’m sure you’ll get the hang of it.” 

“Hope so.” Tommy mutters, and he might hear Phil say something else, but it’s lost on him, words mixing together into incomprehensible sounds. Phil just hugs him tighter, and Tommy closes his eyes, finally. 

**Author's Note:**

> If you want a second chap drop a pogchamp in the chat wooooooo
> 
> also thanks for reading
> 
> (If you got fanart or something, you can @ me with the username "sircantus" on either insta, twitter, or tumblr. I would love to see it)


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